Mrs and Mrs Lopez
by GiveMeEverything
Summary: Based off the movie Mr. and Mrs. Smith. How far do you go to kill the one you can't live without?
1. Prologue

**Mrs. and Mrs. Lopez**

Prologue

Santana shifts uncomfortably in the leather chair. It sticks to her skin and annoys the hell out of her every time she moves. Why did she agree to this? It's not the first time she asked herself, but it's the first time she asked herself while being seated in a room waiting for some PHD wielding expert to analyze her life and try to fix what isn't broken.

Sure her marriage has been lackluster for what now? A few months? Half a year? 365days max, but it's expected, after being married so long the excitement dies out. And where is the problem in that? They were settling; it's a phase every married couple goes through.

"I'm sorry for the wait," Dr Richards sits in front of them in a sofa made for one. Actually, all the sofa's in this room are made for one, hence why she's not sitting with Brittany. Their sofas' are side-by-side, and skin to skin but the armrests separate them, making it less intimate. Santana doesn't have a problem with that; they have a soft couch at home that doesn't squeak and it is padded with cushions that are perfect for wielding off in the heat of the moment.

Come to think of it, that's what her marriage is like now, the picture of perfection, neat, and not one thing out of place until something stirs the calm and they're taking it out on each other till they are both wrecked, then they pick the pieces up and put them just how they were, neither saying another word.

The thought passes and Santana is drawn back to the conversation; by the sound of it she hasn't missed much more than Dr. Richards' apology.

"Now, you don't have to answer the questions if you feel uncomfortable. But I encourage you to participate as much as possible. The more you help me by talking, the more I can help you." Dr. Richards says and looks from Brittany to Santana, making sure they understand the rules to her game.

"Ok, let's begin."

Santana cuts in before the first question leaves Dr. Richards' mouth, "I'd like to make it clear that we aren't 'that' type of couple. Actually, we don't even need to be here."

"That's true," Brittany adds, not looking at Santana at all. Her eyes are fixed to the walls covered in diploma's and honors; she's looking at them but not really, she's just gathering the situation in her head and thinking about how humorous it is for them to be sitting here.

"I blame Rachel Berry,"

"She was cheating,"

"uh huh,"

"uh huh" Both say in unison.

It would have been funny except for the fact that stuff like this happens to them all the time, from saying the same thing to having the same opinion to picking up the hammer conveniently placed smack between them at the same time – hands covering each other's while both tugging for the right to hammer in the nails for their respective auctioned pieces of art, not to mention how they met; it's like their lives were jinxed from the get go.

Dr. Richards remains silent, watching the exchange take place between the two strikingly different women.

"Personal dislike never dies does it? Well, her issues with Quinn seem to have simmered."

"They were just plotting against you babe." Brittany gives Santana a smile which she returns. They nearly forget that this is couples therapy and that there is a specialist sitting across from them scrutinizing their every word and action.

"It was during my high-school reunion." Santana says, "It was the first time I introduced Brittany to everyone."

"…you introduced me as your wife and everyone went bonkers."

"Right, then we got into a bet. I used to be on the Cheerio's; won some shiny for the school. But Quinn always thought she was better than me, we were cheerleaders together."

"That's when the great balancing match began."

"Which turned horribly wrong. Rachel Berry gave us water after fifteen minutes on the pole; mine was beer or straight liquor I'm sure."

"You didn't have to drink it all; that was one tall cup of non-water"

Santana's lips curl into a smirk as her eyes flick towards Brittany

"I swear Quinn's legs were already shaking."

"Skipping to the end of the story," Brittany brings Dr. Richards up to speed, "she lost her balance and fell face forward. I don't know what hurt more, her nose or her ego. If I know this one, it was the latter."

Santana lifts her eyebrows and locks Brittany in a knowing look, "Well, we're here aren't we? Rachel has the most unoriginal ideas."

They both giggle quietly like school girls keeping a secret in the empty halls.

"Why did you follow through?" Dr. Richards raises the question wondering if there is more to the appointment than a practical joke.

The couple shares a look, "We have a theory." Santana says.

"We do?" There's a light tone in Brittany's voice saying 'amuse me'.

"Catcher in the Rye," Santana reminds Brittany.

"Oh right, the same page."

" See, we've been married for ….six years."

"Seven," Brittany corrects.

"Six to seven years," Santana goes on, Dr. Richards nods her head, "this is like a test to see that we still have the same vision set for _us. _You know, that we're reading the same lines, have the same understanding, maybe talk about things we don't see eye to eye, adjust our points of view…"

Santana looks towards Brittany who nods and gives her hand resting on the armrest near Brittany's own hand a pat.

Some time passes and Dr. Richards clears her throat, her small warning to the following questions, "how happy would you say you are as a couple on a scale from one to ten?"

"Seven and a half." Brittany says without much thought, she waits for Santana to answer.

"Wait, does ten mean ultimately happy and one mean drowning in sorrow?" Santana looks at Dr. Richards for direction, things like this can be extremely important and it's always good to know beforehand.

"Just answer the way you feel is right."

Santana bobs her head in response; her eyes find Brittany's once again, "Are you ready?" They both nod at each other.

"Seven and a half"

"Seven and a half"

It's like they have the same mind, it makes Santana smile with satisfaction.

Dr. Richards jots down this information, "Ok, how happy would you say your partner is? Same scale and rules apply."

"How small are we allowed to divide the fractions? wait, are fractions even allowed? Do we have to answer the other question again?" Brittany rambles in confusion till she feels a hand pat hers.

"You can answer whatever you want." Santana whispers reassuringly.

"Just say whatever you feel is right." Dr. Richards affirms.

"Ok, let's do this,"

"One, two, three…"

"Seven and a half"

"Seven and a half"

Once again Dr. Richards records their answers. "How often do you have sex?"

The girls almost choke. Brittany actually turns her face away to look out the window for a brief moment.

"I don't understand the question." Santana says plainly.

"Are we still doing one to ten?"

"Yeah, because then would that mean ten is like, getting it on all the time in every place possible and one meaning hardly touching each other? What about eye-fucking?"

"I'm really confused right now, is ten like never ending orgasms?"

"Continuously….no breaks…."

"No sleep….twenty-four seven? Like vampires?" Just the thought is appealing to Brittany.

"Yeah, they don't need sleep; they can do it all day and night."

"No," Dr. Richards quickly shakes her head, "I just want an honest answer. How often do you have sex?"

"That's a hard question,"

"That's a hard question."

Dr. Richards leaves it at that and soldiers on, "How did you two meet?"

"It was in the Congo." Brittany says, remembering the first time she'd laid eyes on the beautiful woman sitting next to her.

"Kasai-Oriental, six years ago."

"Seven."

"Right, six or seven years ago."

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><p><strong>Tell me if I should continue. Finals are done so now I have a lot of time to write, I thought I'd do this story based on a poster I saw floating around or Mrs. and Mrs. Lopez. I know this is a short chapter but I want to know if this story will be worth writing based on the feedback. <strong>


	2. Chapter 1

**This chapter is in thanks to all your reviews! I'm running with the story.**

**Special thanks to Nikki2213, my new beta.**

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

_Flashback: Kasai-Oriental, Democratic Republic of the Congo_

To lone eagle

From unknown

Fly solo. Spears coming.

A dark skinned figure walks out from behind the ivory white pillar of polished marble right into the waiting arms of men, dark as night and carrying war guns.

He hadn't been warned in time, the spears were already upon him.

"Papers," the leader says with a native accent. He snatches them away when offered. "General Palaya has been murdered."

"So I heard," The other says.

"Then you will know that unless you have a woman with you, I must put you under arrest."

The fairer skinned man cocks his head towards the hotel entrance where a woman with golden hair falling over her local garments is being held up in much the same way.

"Are you two together?" The man in charge shouts, it takes the foreigners one second to nod.

"Yes, we are."

The army men let them go and move on to the other visitors.

The businessman grabs the woman by the wrist and marches them towards the bathroom to wait out the army raid.

"Wait, you can't" The woman says as she's pushed into a stall and turns around just as the door slams shut. "You're a guy, you can't be in here." She finishes.

The man turns around, eyes on fire as he leans against the door and breathes in. He pats his back pocket and sighs out in relief.

The woman is still looking at him incredulously, a look he returns. Now is not the time to think of being socially acceptable. But for good measure he rips off his mustache and opens his blazer to reveal a very full chest. "Happy now?"She says catching the white woman by surprise.

"I'm Brittany, I'm American."

"Santana. Same."

They shake hands and for a minute their eyes meet. There is an instant connection.

"You're not Mexican? I thought you were" Brittany says.

Santana chuckles as she puts her mustache back on, "Don't let the tan fool you babe."

_Two hours later_

They're walking in the marketplace; it's not as busy as usual. Where sellers normally lay their trinkets on the ground and call with grating voices for attention, there is only dust.

"General Palaya made it safe for foreigners to come here and do business. Such trading goes against the UN, which has been trying to take off the heads of powerful diamond dealers for half a century already. I guess they're getting hotter." Santana explains.

They weave through a small alley and appear outside the market on a street downtown.

"How do you know all this stuff?" Brittany asks following Santana's every step.

"I read Time."

_Half an hour later: Evolution Bar_

To keep suspicion away, Santana links her arm in Brittany's as she leads her from the light into the dark. The quiet of the street turns into the beating of the bass coming from a giant speaker in the center of the dance floor.

"Want a drink?" Santana asks, leaving for the bar before getting an answer.

She finds her girl again in-between hot dancing bodies and motions for her to follow. They escape the heavy ear-buzzing beat and get comfy on their high-stools, close enough for their knees to touch.

The suited girl raises her glass and the other girl's glass meets it halfway with a clink. A full song plays without either girl making conversation with their mouths, but their eyes have said plenty and it's not been innocent by any means.

"You know you were there at just the right time," Brittany says, her eyes rolling back from the lemon taste hitting a sour bud, "like you're my soul-mate."

"Trust me," Santana raises her voice to float over the Hip-hop number playing, "You're my soul-mate."

_Well into the evening: Evolution Bar_

"Let's dance," Brittany slurs having had one too many shots of tequila. She holds out her hand and waits for Santana to grasp it.

On her order, two more shots are poured from the bottle of tequila Santana had bought – it's nearing empty. "One more," She tells Brittany, and they both slam the strong liquid down their throats.

All around them are sweaty bodies moving with the music but no one flows better than Brittany does.

**If I had one wish, we would be best friends  
>Love would never end, it would just begin<strong>

Brittany turns Santana around in one swift movement and presses them together as they grind.

**If I had one wish, you would be my boo  
>Promise to love you, trust me I'll trust you<strong>

Hands are all Santana feels, all over her body. She turns around so she can see the person who is making her heart race faster than a bullet.

**If I had one wish, we would run away  
>Making love all day, have us a baby<strong>

Their eyes have a silent conversation as finger tips brush over bare skin and send electric jolts through their bodies.

**If I had one wish, I'd make you my whole life  
>And you'd be my wife, make it right this time<strong>

The rhythm sets them on fire, their breaths barely enough as they feel the beat in each other.

_Hours later at the dawn of a new morning: Brittany's hotel bed_

"Do you feel that?" Brittany clutches Santana's hand over her breast where she can feel her heart. "It won't stop pounding."

"Come with me and it never will," Santana says. The extreme seriousness in her eyes causes Brittany's heart to skip a beat.

"Pinky swear?"

Santana takes the outstretched finger and wraps it with hers, "With all the Latin blood in me."

She rolls onto Brittany, ready for round two.

_After one week: Movie Theater, NY_

"I'll get you more popcorn."

"No, it's ok. The movie is half done."

"There's still the other half," Santana says and stands up.

Brittany gives her a smile and lets her go.

Santana comes back just as the werewolves gather. She earns a kiss on the cheek when she plops a giant bag of popcorn into Brittany's lap.

"Are you trying to bite me vampire?" She whispers.

"I like the taste of werewolf," Brittany says into Santana's ear and lays her head on her shoulder.

_In the street_

Brittany takes off and swings around a lamp post to Santana's amusement.

"Get down here Vampire," Santana stretches her hand for Brittany to take but she doesn't.

"Come here werewolf," She says instead. Santana steps closer to the base of the lamppost where her face is mere inches from Brittany's.

They kiss for a few minutes till drops of rain begin to fall. Quickly, Brittany slides down the post and they run for their house a few meters up the street.

_Week three after meeting: Coney Island_

"Pink cotton candy, my favorite," Brittany says and eats a chunk letting the sugar melt on her lips and tongue. The air is warm and it's a nice day to be out. "Hold this," she hands the fluffy stick to Santana and lifts her camera up to snap a photo.

A sound comes from behind but neither girl start at the loud bang. They turn to see 'Firing Range' written on peeling wood above a gaming booth. They don't even have to ask before walking straight up to it.

Santana hands over five bucks and Brittany gets a gun. A smug smile spreads over Santana's face as Brittany misses the first shot by a long mile and has to step back in reaction. She tries again and does better but still hits nothing.

The man in the booth gets another five bucks as Santana steps up to the line. She warms her arms and shoulders quickly and in a swift movement brings the gun up to aim, and fires. Three bangs go off, the last shot straight into the bulls-eye. "Hot Damn," she says trading the gun for a small stuffed unicorn.

She doesn't try to hide the smile when she sees Brittany's face, surprised and impressed.

"Can I try again?" Brittany asks halting Santana with a hand on her shoulder before she can walk away. She whips out another five as Brittany gets ready.

Five shots sizzle through the air.

Its Santana's turn to stand shocked as Brittany collects her Unicorn twice the size as Santana's.

"Don't look like that," she says nonchalantly, "its beginners luck. But now your baby unicorn has a mommy."

_Week Six: Karate class_

"Stay focused, that's it Santana," Mercedes calls from the sidelines. Santana dodges a well-placed kick and delivers one of her own in her opponent's stomach. It's a match wrapper.

Santana always feels good after a match, she's got a pretty outstanding record – no one else has been on a winning streak since their first match.

"Brittany would have loved seeing me kicking that guy's ass," Santana says between taking gulps of water.

"You talk about her a lot. You've only known her for what six weeks and I practically know her already by your inability to shut up about her." Mercedes, Santana's best friend nudges her in the ribs.

"I can't help it. She's wonderful and cute, practically a grown version of little Miss Sunshine. She's incredibly smart and witty too." After a beat Santana adds, "She's also a hell of a good shot."

Santana pats Mercedes on the shoulder as she stands up. "Be out in a few minutes," she says and walks towards the showers.

_Week six: California Beach_

The waves roll hard and fast. Brittany cuts through and enters a tunnel steadying her feet on her custom made surfboard. When she emerges she rides the waves back to shore where her friend Quinn, is sunbathing.

They're both white as the sand and in need of a nice tan.

"What does she even do?" Quinn raises her hand to shield the sun from her eyes as she turns in the direction the sun penetrates her sunglasses.

Brittany swallows a gulp of Gatorade and brushes some hardened sand off her arm. "She's in sports, an agent. I think she's perfect."

_Week 8: Formula 1 Circuit, LA_

"You haven't answered me yet, why are you avoiding the question?" Mercedes asks.

Santana doesn't seem to hear she's totally focused on the racer in third place cutting a curve dangerously.

"He's gaining on number two," Santana says, eyes never leaving the track.

"I can't believe you dragged me out here to watch this shit."

"Just because you're from the hood don't mean you have to swear at me sistah'."

Racer three passes number two as expected and chases number ones tail.

"She's a programmer. She gets calls at all hours of the day, even at night. Did you know even the Pentagon calls on her? Yeah, she's that good like she's Neo from the matrix or something."

The last lap takes over their conversation and Santana jumps up with a victorious fist pump. "I told you number three was a winner."

"A lucky winner," Mercedes says knowing Santana will sign him or her tonight.

"You bet."

_Week 8: Boxing gym_

"Damn it, that hurts." Brittany struggles against Quinn, her partner who knows all her weak spots. They've been friends for a few years but it feels like they've known each other for a lifetime.

Another hard hit comes, but Brittany is able to parry the blow with her glove.

"Tell me again why you think this is perfect."

Brittany hits back with equal power and Quinn bounces off the ropes as she regains balance.

"Because we both travel a lot, but when we're together we don't talk about work."

A blow is delivered to her stomach and she reels back, setting her guard up again to block the machine gun gloves of her partner.

"I can leave the office and not think about it…"

_Week 10: Pent house in upper Manhattan_

"…No questions asked and no demands." Santana sips from her tall glass, some wine dribbles down her chin.

"You got some on your clothes daydreamer," Mercedes says then quickly escapes, mingling in with the rich and famous before Santana can follow.

Santana puts the glass down and checks that no red stains are visible on her white collar or gray suit, "Bitch."

_Week 10: Beth's Bakery, NY_

"Get the door for me?" Quinn says as she lifts a heavy tray laden with sugar oozing cinnamon rolls and shoves it in the oven. "How's the sex?" she asks with a smirk.

Brittany smirks back as she shuts the oven door. "Hot as that oven."

_Week 12: Helicopter, NY_

Brittany sits back and wiggles in her chair where she is strapped down. She looks to her right at Quinn who is looking through her night vision binoculars at the tops of each rundown building.

"You know it's not only about the sex, even though _that's_ out of this world." She says, lifting the helicopter higher at Quinn's signal. They still haven't found what they're looking for.

_Week 12: Back of plane at 35,000 feet_

"If I have to do one more thing with you, I just might kill you." Mercedes breathes in and out with her eyes closed and hands over her ears.

"So you're really not going to jump?" Santana asks. She receives a glare in return.

"I need a distraction before I throw up. Tell me what's so special about having sex with her."

Santana thinks for a minute with dreamy eyes, her thoughts far away

"After, when we're lying in bed and I just look into her eyes, there's something so familiar there. It's like I know all of her, not just her body. And I'm telling you, those eyes are mysterious as the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean but when I look into them, those secrets become sparkling clear."

_Helicopter, NY_

"It should scare me; she can read me like a book. But you know what? I don't care." Brittany hoists the helicopter up higher and heads back to base.

Quinn puts an arm on Brittany's cuff and pulls her goggles down.

_Plane, 35,000 feet off the ground _

"Aren't you scared? It's kind of risky." Mercedes shouts as the plane door opens and wind rushes in at a breath taking speed.

Santana prepares to jump, checking her parachute one more time. "A girls got to do what a girls gotta do. Want to hear something real scary?"

She waits a beat, putting her hands on the edge of the door's frame to push off. "I asked her to marry me."

Mercedes doesn't have a chance to react before Santana is gone, freefalling through the air.

_Helicopter, NY_

"What did you say?" Quinn grips Brittany's arm even tighter, eyes as wide as an owl.

Brittany flicks the necessary buttons as she prepares to land on the 'X' mark.

"I said yes."

_Four weeks later in March, Backyard_

"She's got it, don't worry," Santana whispers as they both smile for the cameraman. An old friend of Santana's that they hired for the occasion.

"It's not that I don't trust her," Brittany whispers back and squints at the spark of the flash, "but if those cream tarts don't make it to the table before my mother does, we are going to have a problem."

Once all the guests are in they make their way to the canvassed area to begin the ceremony. There are only three rows of ten chairs divided down the middle where Santana and Brittany walk hand in hand.

At the front is a pastor from the church down the street. One, which neither Santana nor Brittany has gone to regardless of multiple invitations from their neighbors.

They both smile at the small crowd of friends and family and alternately look at each other and smile even bigger.

When Santana had asked, Brittany hadn't hesitated. They both knew after three months that they wanted this.

"I don't have much to offer," Santana had said, holding the diamond ring out to Brittany on top of the highest skyscraper in New York. "All I have is an average house with an average garden with no flowers to speak of. I have noisy and annoying neighbors, and I come with anger problems. I can promise you my best though; you won't have to worry about a thing. So, will you marry me?"

It was enough. From the beginning all Brittany had wanted was for her heart to never slow its pace, and that's how it's been from the moment she'd met Santana.

"Yes," she had said and pulled them back into the party, ring on her hand.

They miss most of what the pastor had said, from the looks of both mothers it was touching. Both fathers hold out tissues for their wives to wipe their eyes.

Brittany and Santana only hear the most important part, when they say, "I do" to each other.

Then the pastor announces, "You may now kiss the bride," and cheers erupt.

Dinner is simple with everyone sitting at one long table, the brides sitting at the head. Brittany leans back and relaxes knowing the cream tarts are in place.

That night they consummate their marriage well into the 's a joyous day. A day neither Santana nor Brittany will ever wish to take back.

A large photo of their family and friends surrounding them around a tall skyscraper cake with two bridal figures on top hangs on the wall of their bedroom. They see it every night before they go to sleep.

_End of flashback_

Santana shakes hands with Dr. Richards and Brittany does the same.

Dr. Richards tells them to come back if they need another session to which Santana says, "It won't be necessary."

She holds out her hand and Brittany grabs it, intertwining their fingers familiarly as they walk across the office and are seen out by Dr. Richards.

The moment the door of Dr. Richard's office closes behind them, their hands slip out of each other's in a practiced motion and they walk down the halls independently as if they are strangers.

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><p><strong>Song: One wish, Ray J<strong>

**R and R**


	3. Chapter 2

**Thank you for waiting patiently, although I don't know when the next update will be. I'm devastated by Brittany not graduating (she's my fuckin favorite ok?) right now and don't have the heart to do anything. I'm sure I'll come back with retaliating rage and write the shit out of Brittana because the glee writers don't seem to be able to do it. Sorry for the rant. **

**Enjoy**

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

The blankets on one side of the bed are already pulled back when Brittany wakes up. Her hand smooths over the sheets in a familiar sweep as she stretches. She can hear the hustle of activity in the bathroom and knows it's time to get up.

The shirt on her back is wrinkled and a tad short. It's no wonder how she got in it. She passes her partner on the way to use the toilets, using her lower eye-level to admire the naked tanned ass.

She smiles as she joins Santana at the long, two-person sink and puts her hand out for the toothpaste.

The other woman rakes her eyes up and down Brittany before returning to stare at her in the mirror. "My clothes always look good on you," she spits and rinses.

"You've got some toothpaste there honey," Brittany wipes the corner of Santana's mouth and hums a short, "uhm" when it's all off.

"Thanks sweetheart," Santana appreciates and leans on the marble sink while Brittany finishes brushing. "So, what did you think of Dr. Richards?"

"She clearly doesn't understand how woman can have just as much sex-drive as men."

"Good point," Santana adjusts the oversized t-shirt to hang off her shoulders better, "I thought her questions were elementary."

"But she had a nice office."

"A very nice office. A tad too formal in my opinion."

"Not everything is about comfort honey, like putting your used clothes in the wicker basket we have here. Remember we bought it from India for this very purpose?" Brittany demonstrates by removing Santana's shirt and putting it in the basket, leaving her completely naked.

"And she always has to make a point," Santana mutters under her breath while keeping her eyes trained on Brittany's perfect form moving back into the bedroom.

They cross paths again as they grab their keys from the bowl. There are just too many clothes to fit in the same closet.

"Have a great day," Santana barely looks at Brittany as she puts her coat on. Brittany does the same, flicking her golden hair to her right shoulder. "You too." They smile at each other in the soft reflection of the glass door and now they really are separate persons with different missions to fulfill.

* * *

><p>The sun sets beautifully, but neither Lopez is home to enjoy it. Only after it's sunken below the streets does Brittany burst through the front door, hands full of grocery bags.<p>

She drops her car keys in the bowl with perfect aim and walks to the kitchen to put free her arms of the weighty bags. She kicks her high-heels off and begins preparing a meal of roast chicken, with tasty gravy and leafy salad. Between chopping the vegetables and checking on the chicken she manages to change into a tank-top and a pair of jogging pants. Her apron goes back on as she gets back to her task.

The door bangs open just as the chicken turns golden.

"Hey honey,"

"Hey," Santana returns the greeting. "Am I on time?"

"You are, just on time." Brittany smiles and brings the food to the table.

Dinner is a simple and quiet affair. They sit at the same table they've shared since the day they got married, except they sit on opposite sides.

"Honey, did you forget?" Brittany begins. Santana immediately tunes in. It's rare they have a conversation at the table. Most of the talking they do after dark can't really be considered a conversation. More like demands and expressions; they also end with orgasms.

"Forget?" But of course now that Brittany brings it up she remembers. "No, I didn't forget sweetheart. I'll do it tomorrow." Then thinking it's maybe not enough she adds, "When you get home from work it'll be in the living-room waiting for you."

Brittany seems satisfied with the answer or she's bored with the conversation already because she's back to stabbing the chicken and sawing it off with a knife similar to how one would kill a victim, cool and collected.

The next day when Santana comes home Brittany isn't in the kitchen but in the living-room, adding the final touch to the Christmas tree. Her smile is replaced with quick action as she takes two giant steps across the room to catch her wife just as she loses balance.

"Well, if I didn't have perfect timing I don't know what to call this." She rights Brittany and admires how the star atop the tree sits comfy, shining and bright. "This tree is perfect sweetheart, and the lights are dazzling." She pecks her wife on the cheek.

"You forget everything about us is perfect." Brittany drags the chair to the kitchen with Santana in tow. "Dinner is served."

"I'm sorry I'm late," Santana loosens her top buttons and sinks into her seat, "but I didn't forget the tree."

"No, you didn't. I'm surprised."

All Santana can do is smirk.

Brittany goes on her nightly run while Santana searches the shelves of DVD's in the basement, looking for a particular race recording.

She emerges just as Brittany comes up the street.

Their neighbor waves from across the fence and Santana waves back out of courtesy as she waits for Brittany to reach the front porch. Her arm goes around Brittany's shoulder when she clears the steps and she kisses her wife.

To Mr. Keller just finished taking out the trash, they are the perfect couple. Everyone on 21st street will agree with him.

As if on the count of three a phone rings in the house followed another. "I'm just going to…" Santana doesn't need to finish her sentence.

"Sure, I'm going to get mine." Brittany dashes upstairs.

"It's tonight? But I thought he was going in next week." Santana slips into some trousers and changes her t-shirt for a suit. "It's short notice but I'll be there. I'll need ammo." She ruffles at shoe boxes at the bottom of her closet to find a pair leather Pierre Cardin's. "See you in ten." She hangs up as she stuffs her gun into the back of her pants and flies down the stairs.

She nearly runs into Brittany who is completely dressed as well, albeit less formal.

"A friend called needing my help with their computer… system crashed while they were encrypting files."

"No its fine," Santana wipes her sweaty hands, "I have some last minute details to go through with a client before we seal the deal."

"So, I'll see you later tonight?"

Santana thinks for a minute, "Right, the Hudson's place nine-thirty."

A hand brushes some powder off the shoulders of her suit. "You always look so good." Brittany retracts her hand.

"Can't let my wife be the only attractive one," Santana says flustered by the comment but also because her time for chit-chatting is running out.

"You need to go," Brittany knows, she can always tell when Santana begins to look at her surroundings.

"See you later sweetheart," she kisses Brittany on the cheek and clicks the center control on her keys. The car lights.

A minute later she can see Brittany's car tailing her and then turn out of sight at the corner.

* * *

><p>8:15<p>

_In front of a dingy bar_

Santana locks herself in the car hidden away from prying eyes.

"Here's your stuff. Do I have to debrief you again?" Puck with his angular jaw and horrid hair is the worst person Santana can ask for, not because he isn't good but he's been through a lot and he's a tad stupid. Having him around is like having a ticking bomb, useful, but able to blow up in your face any second.

"Only come if I call Puck, and that is a strict order." Santana places two guns in her boots, one in the back of her pants and one on the inside of her coat. She's analyzed this crime lord for a week, she knows his strength is the amount of body guards he has with him both in uniform and out. But he's fragile and relies too much on what he knows. He'll be easily surprised tonight when Santana gets to him.

"Okay, but be careful Santana. The guy is dangerous." Puck half pats half shoves her to get moving.

"Aren't they all?" She says through the crack at the top of the window. And she's gone, keeping close to the underbrush with her head low. In no time she has her back against the wall of the dirty establishment and a foot in the door.

_Behind the stage at a high end strip club_

"Review the plan for me one more time," Quinn finally gets the strap of Brittany's dress in the low, flashing lights.

"Get his attention, give him a lap dance and get his thumb print. You'll be waiting for me outside; we go to his hotel and finish the deed." Through the curtain, Brittany focuses her attention on the man sitting at a front table.

"I feel like I'm sending you out - a sheep among wolves. Look at the way they're undressing the poor girls with their eyes." Quinn stands behind her, watching.

"Remember, I'm a tiger hiding under sheep's skin. Just keep in contact." With that Brittany steps confidently onto the walkway leading to the stage where half a dozen barely clothes girls are waiting to be picked.

They don't have anything on her. She commands attention the minute she parts the gold sea of strippers in her shimmering deep blue outfit.

It's not long before her prey has picked her, "bad move," she whispers under her breath.

* * *

><p>8:30<p>

_Below the first floor of the dirty bar, a gambling room with one large table._

Santana is quick to spot the wall of black suits covering the filth and grime of the cracked, blood smudged walls.

Her entrance is well announced with the banging open of the door and guns trained on her with the first step of her foot into their treasure cove. He's on point, sitting at the head of the round table, only because of all the men behind him.

"Who are you?" A clean shaved man as short as Santana searches her eyes, she's glad there's no sign he recognizes her under the beard and thick eyebrows she glares out from. The first sign of fear and she'll be riddled with a hundred bullets.

"Albert Edmund sent me;" She plays cool, "he wants to know what sort of crack-house you Chinese play in. By the looks of it he won't be impressed." She walks purposefully to the small drinks station and orders a beer.

"What's important is the money not the location. But if he has a better place, we may make an arrangement." The man whispers, his confidence faltering.

"I'm here to pass judgment and I haven't decided yet if you bunch are worth the money. Let me play a round with Mr. Zhung."

The man himself sits smug face, staring down his opponent as if using some old Chinese technique to devour a live soul.

"Not tonight," His correspondent apologizes. "He's settling a debt with an old friend."

Boldly, Santana walks up to the intense game of cards. She slams her hand on the wood making the knots rattle. "Let me take over this," She whispers into the ear of the trembling man opposite her target. His hope is failing and maybe he thinks she'll be distraction enough to give him a chance to run if tides become worse.

"You lose I die," He whispers back.

"I lose, we both do." Santana takes the man's seat and looks straight at her opponent. That he's surprised is to say the least, first advantage.

"Hello, lovely evening for a game,"

He knows he has the upper-hand and he says just as much in Chinese. "The bitch wants to die; this is more entertaining than I thought." She understands every word he says, another advantage.

She smirks at Mr. Zhung, head of the sex and slave trade in China. It's gross the things he's done to his fellow countrymen for money. He has so much filth on his hands; he couldn't wash it off if he used all the bleach in this world.

"Let's play," She winks at one of his body guards who winks back, advantage number three.

_Inside a high-end strip club_

The connection is almost instantaneous; with one wink the slightly overweight, terribly drunken man is calling her with a snap of his fingers. She responds like a cat to his command.

She feels his hands all over her and its kind of disgusting but it's exactly what she wants from him. All she has to do is smile coyly, make him want her. It's so simple; she knows she's got the natural charm and what man wouldn't want to touch a scarcely clothed woman? It's a winning combination.

Brittany leans in closer to his face. She can smell the heavy alcohol on his breath but it doesn't deter her. She's dancing up on him as if he were a weighty pole, the heat between them no doubt turning him on. Her bold move works as she feels his clumsy hand grip her cheek, he's too drunk to notice how she arranges his thumb and presses it further into her skin.

The dance finally ends. She walks away with $200 stuffed in her chest and a billion dollar fingerprint on her cheek.

* * *

><p>8:45<p>

_Dirty bar, underground_

"All in," Santana says, her eyes never giving away what she knows is about to happen. She's a natural at this game, and with the inside help there's no way she's losing. He keeps raising and so does she, just a little bit more, taking back as much as possible from the man who takes the very lives of people and sells them into slavery.

She's never one for doing a half-ass job, she's always all in.

If Mr. Zhung is surprised he doesn't show it. He's past the point of shock and now more than ever he gloats. He has the power, with one order everyone in the room could be dead.

Sam Evans, Santana's partner, visibly gulps at the dangerous game she's playing. It wasn't part of the plan to take that much money off of him. Santana is on the border between brash and brilliant.

"Show the river," Mr. Zhung sits back with a face of satisfaction. The game is his and he knows it.

Except it's not.

The final card is turned. Her opponents face changes but hers doesn't as she jumps onto the table and with one blow knocks him out.

In a split second all the guns are out and it feels like a badly balanced shoot-out is about to begin.

_High-end club, behind the stage_

Brittany rushes as fast as her feet can take her. High-heels were never good for getting away, especially fancy ones that are all looks and no comfort.

Quinn is already waiting for her, lights off and engine running low. But as soon as Brittany hops in and shuts the door they are off at full-speed to the Hilton.

Brittany emerges from the car, very much changed. She's out of her costume and into something she can work with. Through her ear piece, Quinn parked a block away gives her the go ahead.

The elevator ride to the top floor is short but every second counts. Breaking in is not a problem, she drops the unlocking gadget in her purse and takes a quick sweep of the room.

"Go to the bathroom," She follows Quinn's instruction, "use the detector on the walls."

The bathroom is huge and her detector is small, the longer it takes the more anxious she gets. It feels like forever till there's a soft beep, she moves left and the beep gets more intense; she's finally on the right track.

The beeping gets so loud she knows she's hit the jackpot. She quickly pulls on rubber gloves and presses on the tiled dolphins on the wall. There's a low buzz then the wall ejects just like she expected, the lid slides to the side revealing a safe.

* * *

><p>9:00<p>

_Dingy bar, underground_

There are three captives, one belonging to Santana and one to Sam. Santana's is in no position to give orders. The other, John Hiram is being held by the Chinese.

"Tell everyone to drop their guns." Sam orders his captive in Chinese. The second in command does as he says without hesitation.

Santana watches the men put their guns on the floor. "Tell them to let Mr. Hiram go and I'll take my gun off their boss."

Her orders are followed. While Sam still has a gun to the commanders head, Santana picks up all the guns on the floor and throws them in a pile near the exit. She sees to it that Mr. Hiram is safe with Puck before making another move.

"You won't get away with this," the captured man struggles with oxygen. Sam tightens his grip around the man's neck.

"We're taking him hostage," Santana signals for Sam to get moving and watches the men, gun trained, for any movement. In the corner of her eye she sees Sam dragging the man up through the door and up the stairs.

It's almost time.

She feels the restlessness in the room. She knows what's coming next, twenty men are about to open fire on her.

Taking a deep breath she pulls out the gun hidden under her coat and takes out six men before dashing. Two seconds later she's surrounded by bullets flying towards her. She makes it to the top floor and shoots down two more of her pursuers.

"Go," Santana orders Puck as she stops for a breath "If you have the Sam, the captive, and John. Go Now". He doesn't get to ask her if she's alright before she's back to exchanging shots with the enemy slowly getting the upper hand.

The best she can do is hide and pick them off one by one till she can escape to her car. The bar is big but now void of people who evacuated once the shooting started. Santana sucks in a deep breath, but she does so carefully, aware that the slightest noise can give off her position.

She checks that she has enough bullets. Close by one of the men walks past, Santana grabs him by the neck and twist, his body falls silently to the floor.

She's able to make it a few feet closer to the kitchen. She takes out two more men from her position crouched behind some barrels. Some men come to look at the dead bodies and try to figure out where the shots came from. She kills another three standing duck.

Feeling better that there are only another six men hunting her, she moves swiftly until she's made it into the kitchen. There's already someone in there. She manages to dislodge the gun from his hand but he throws a fist at her head and then at her side.

He's strong and fast, it's all Santana can do to block his lightning kicks and punches. She knows it's not long till the other find them, and it'll be more difficult for her to escape.

It's a battle of wits as well as strength and even though she's been defending herself against her attacker the whole time she finds an opening. As he kicks her aiming for her stomach, she ducks so low she's almost splayed out on the floor but her hand is swift in grabbing a frying pan. In one smooth move she stands up and whacks him from behind. His head bleeds instantly as he crumples dead.

She runs as fast as she can after that, three men in her pursuit. She makes it through the kitchen door to the great outdoors where she hides in the underbrush. The men look for her but in the dark she'll be impossible to find.

There's a sharp pain in her arm that she didn't notice before, but now it throbs. She touches the spot where a bullet must have hit her and smells the blood on her hand.

In the darkness she makes her way swiftly to where her car is hidden on an off road. She hasn't got much time, the men looking for her are the least of her worries now. She's got exactly five minutes to meet her wife, and it's never a good idea to keep her waiting.

_Hilton hotel, top floor suite_

Brittany works quickly, extracting a flash-drive Quinn gave to her and plugging it into a port in the safe. She puts in the correct information and finally peels the plastic off her cheek and sticks in onto the fingerprint scanner.

The safe unlocks.

"Too easy," Brittany mutters then grabs handfuls of documents from the safe, storing it in a bag.

"Britt, you have company." Quinn warns. They weren't expecting him to get back so soon.

Brittany makes her hands work faster till the safe is empty. But it's too late; she hears the door click open.

"Plan B, their in."

"Got it, you ready?"

"Ready." Quinn replies.

There's no way she can escape from the bathroom. There are no windows and no openings on the roof.

She takes a deep breath and stealthily tip-toes to the bathroom door, peeking out to see that everyone is in the bedroom.

She makes a mad dash to the balcony. What she doesn't expect is to be fired on by two bodyguards she hadn't seen.

Doing her best to dodge the shots she climbs onto the limb of the balcony and jumps off, letting her escape cape catch the wind as she falls gently from the 45th floor.

Without losing sweat, she grounds her feet on the pavement and looks up, saluting the lame attempts to shoot her down. Then she's getting into the escape car.

There's plenty of time left. It's only 9:15.

* * *

><p>9:30<p>

Brittany is parked in front of the Hudson house. She smacks her lips in the mirror after reapplying her lip gloss for the third time.

A car pulls up behind her and she smiles. Her wife is never late but never early, only ever on time. She gets out of her car, wine bottle in her arm and waits for Santana to lock up.

It takes her a minute to do so, having sped to the Hudson house. But she's a pro at multitasking, one hand on the wheel while the other cleans her wound. The bullet didn't go in too deep so with one hand and a pair of tweezers she was able to take it out and bandage herself. She ripped off the fake hair and stored it carefully in her briefcase. She'd let her hair out from its tight bun under her top hat which she also got rid of, placing it at the back.

All in all, she's a skilled driver she hardly needs eyes to go 120 on the back roads.

With a sigh Santana straightens her clothes out, doses herself with cologne and locks her car. She stretches her arm out for her waiting wife and leads them to the front porch of the Hudson home.

"Fixed that computer?" Santana kisses her wife on the cheek.

"Was a piece of cake, had time for a glass of wine and girl talk too."

"Good,"

"And how was the deal? Bet you had them wrapped around your finger." Brittany laughs easily into the cool night air.

"Taken care of; you know I'm the best sweetheart."

"I do," Brittany replies and raps on the front door, "I can't wait for you to tell Rachel Hudson how her lame punishment worked out."

"You mean the sex we had when we came home from Dr. Richards? I don't think I want to share that." Santana gets a playful hit on the shoulder

"I knew it couldn't go on too long, I can see every time you want to hold my hand. How are you taking this plan of 'less interdependence' honey?"

"It got me awesome sex," Santana cocks her eyebrow cheekily; "I say it's successful."

"only cus you broke the rules babe," Brittany laughs.

As the door opens and they are greeted by Finn and Rachel, they smile at each other like it's been a perfectly normal evening.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

They do this once a month, ever since Santana found out her old high-school friends Rachel and Finn lived in the same neighborhood she was obligated to visit.

Mostly she brings wine, drinks it, says some sentimental shit about their high-school days and then she's welcome to go home till next time.

But now that Brittany comes along too she's obligated to actually talk with the couple. They met Brittany at the wedding, obviously. Santana thought they'd be happy they were even invited, well Finn was happy – it doesn't take much for a jack of no trade guy to be happy. He and Mrs. Pierce pretty much devoured all the cream tarts that day.

Rachel on the other hand was very vocal in telling her she was betraying their friendship by not introducing Brittany sooner. It became so bad that Santana told her they were never close friends which offended Rachel so much she stopped talking to Santana for two weeks. After that she came knocking at Santana's door with a peace offering of 1000 miniature Chinese oranges in a bow laden basket, apparently they were supposed to bring good luck. Santana of course accepted because who doesn't take a thousand good luck oranges?

And from then on they had their monthly visits.

She can partly blame Brittany for that.

Brittany has a thing for gossip. Santana didn't think she was that type of girl when she married her, not that it's a problem. More often than not, it lead to mutual ridicule of the couple that should not be able to function but ran smoother than an engine probably due to the subtle sub/dom (not in the sexy way) relationship going on under Finnocent's nose.

"Santana, I'd like you to do the honors since you're both Finn and my oldest friend here." Rachel's million watt smile that earned her millions of dollars blinds Santana from seeing how in the world she could still be with Finn after all this time.

Brittany gives her an encouraging smile and a bump on the shoulder as caution. 'Behind the closed doors of our house we can say whatever we want but in front of the very people we make fun of we have to be on our best behavior', Brittany had told Santana.

Santana doesn't even understand why that's important to her. Rachel and Finn are her friends and she's in PR which means she's always on her best behavior. Brittany's behind a computer all day talking to a voice and Santana's sure Brittany's best friend at work is a robot.

"Here's to another five years of Rachel Hudson, Rest in Peace Rachel Berry. Let's hope Finn realizes yet again how lucky he is to have someone to share his bank account with after spending all his money, literally, on a ring Rachel can't wear most of the time. I hope you're happy for another five years, which by the way I think is a ridiculous thing to celebrate. Who in the world celebrates their marriage every five years before they're thirty?" Santana clinks her cup with Brittany, Rachel who is muted and playing mummy, and Finn who doesn't know if the toast was good or bad; he's still processing.

"Marriage is a special thing Santana, you of all people should know. Why would we wait till we're thirty to begin celebrate?" Rachel drinks her wine glumly.

"I was talking intervals Rach, is it too forward to suppose you need lots of celebrations with Finn so you'll have lots of things to remember when this marriage crumbles?" Santana gets a swat from Brittany who is far from pleased with her which can be good or bad; she just has to wait for when they get home to know.

"She just means till the day you die and become dust Rachel." Brittany remedies.

Rachel doesn't look so sure, but she takes it when Santana nods in agreement.

"Actually our ten year anniversary is tomorrow and we're having a party to which Brittany and Santana, you are invited. But I was just thinking about the celebration we had on the night before our wedding. We went the non-traditional way and spent it together instead of apart." Rachel looks fondly at Finn.

"Spare me the details," Santana covers her ears, "and that isn't the only non – traditional thing about your wedding. Hello, justice of the peace hitching and at the ready age of eighteen fresh out of high-school."

"That was the best decision of my life Santana; hey you got married not long after!" Finn chimes in.

"Which reminds me," Rachel ever nosey jumps up from the couch and points a finger at Santana, "you never told us about your honeymoon, I've told you our story several times."

"too many…" Brittany interjects, pulling closer into Santana's embrace.

"Exactly, thank you sweetheart. Stuff like that is private, no one asked you to spill. I've heard stuff I wish I didn't know." Santana says pointedly, wrapping her arm around Brittany tighter.

It's been a whole week; she missed the cuddling, the touches, and the kisses due to her stupid 'space' plan.

Actually, that came from a book which came from Puckerman.

Santana laughed at him so hard when 'An arm's length too close,' came up in a pile of his junk.

He could never keep too many things because he was terribly untidy and a little always looked like a lot. So, every now and then he'd put all the 'crap' in a box and throw it out to the front of his apartment for the old homeless bozo to go through.

Santana had pointed it out to Puck who took one look at a page inside the book conveniently titled, 'Make your habits fit your habitat,' and swore that was the first time he'd seen it. Further page flipping confirmed it was a marriage guide for troubled couples.

"Doubt bozo will use that. Those guys are forever single or gay in North Carolina right? Like its rule number one for them to be a solo act and depressed?" Puck scratched his completely shaved head. "Hey maybe you could use it, bet you have a boyfriend who could use a lil' lesson on putting things in place."

Santana had smacked his head where a scar from a knife fight was prominent. She didn't correct him for thinking she was straight or that she was seeing someone that was private information that could be used against her – she did keep the book though.

It was educational in her opinion until it got to the 'plan' which was some reverse psychology, of how distance made the heart fonder.

Well for one she learnt that you should never fix what ain't broke, and two, distance only made her hornier.

"I'm not asking for the whole story, just the interesting parts…"

Santana puts a palm over her forehead; she didn't know how long she'd zoned out but Rachel still wasn't done talking.

"…and we've been friends for ages Santana, I'm still surprised that you just left on your honeymoon after your wedding without telling me. I would have given you your honeymoon present before you left, giving it after defeated the whole purpose."

"Is she talking about the bikinis?" Brittany whispered to Santana who nodded.

"We were perfectly fine without your presents, Rachel. Besides, I would never wear the bikini you gave me, it's hideous."

Rachel advances towards Santana who stands up to meet her. Once in a while a verbal battle would come up between the girls and neither ever backed down.

"I'll have you know those are Victoria Secret which I got off a fashion show." Rachel flamed, nose red and expanding.

"Probably the ones they found too under par to let any of their models wear so they gave them to you." Santana replied with a smirk.

On the floor, Finn and Brittany looked on – the former with concern, the latter with sheer pleasure.

"This was pretty much how they were in high-school, you're kind of lucky to have Santana she usually win's with few scars. Except for that time everyone in glee club agreed she'd end up working on a pole and she cried for half the day." Finn whispers, his eyes moving back and forth like he's watching a game of street fighters.

"Strippers are hot," Brittany couldn't care less. Santana had made a name for herself contrary to what her 'friends' had said, not to mention Santana _did_ work on a pole one night on Brittany's birthday in a private night club, just the memory brings back the tingles in her loins.

"…they would have shown the perfect amount of skin, and considering your exquisite bust, would have only made your curves more flattering."

"Oh, in other words they're hella skimpy and would make me look like a porn-star. You like that though, don't you? I get it now, you totally had the hots for me in high-school and when I wasn't interested you turned to Quinn. I can't wait for your coming out party, sure could beat your five year anniversaries just think of all the pressed lemon jokes I could make."

"Ok, that's enough" Brittany wiggles between Rachel and Santana before they can get to nose grinding which is pretty much the last level before bitch slapping. "I've seen Rachel cry and it's not pretty."

"Sorry we didn't get your presents before we left, the mailman must have taken a wrong turn." She says to Rachel, and then to Santana, "Honey, you look best with no clothes on."

"And you'd look good in a power suit right about now sweetheart." Santana replies and leans in for a kiss which she doesn't get.

"Now that _that's _settled, in the interest of world peace I'm going to tell everyone about our awesome honeymoon." Brittany smiles satisfied that no one is at each other's throats and that their attention is on her.

"Whatever, just make sure to skip the most interesting parts," Santana winks at Brittany. She pulls her towards the love seat and plops down, bringing Brittany down with her.

Rachel settles next to Finn on the long couch, eager to hear the scoop.

"On June 11th, the year 2003, Santana Lopez married Brittany S. Pierce who from that day became Brittany S. Lopez. On June 12th, at six am Santana woke me up. I was so tired after getting no sleep that I threw a pillow at her. Anyways, at seven pm we were on Santana's company's private jet, license 3002 to the Maldives where we landed on the water right next to the pier leading straight to our floating hut, number 4. It cost Santana $500 a night, I found out even though she tried to hide the invoice with a low tech encrypting program which is kind of silly because I break those for a living. At eight-thirty Am Santana carried me bridal style over the threshold and interesting things happened in there for a good three hours."

"Ahem," Rachel clears her throat, "the story is really interesting Brittany, but uh, can you make it more interesting by telling the real interesting parts?"

"I thought it was just getting interesting," Finn smiles hazily.

"Do you two have vocabulary problems?" Santana rolls her eyes. "If you really have to know, after an afternoon of snorkeling we found this giant starfish that was ancient and about to die."

"Santana totally loves sea creatures, she got all sentimental," Brittany interrupts.

"…yeah, and you know what? I named it after you. It reminded me of how one day your bloated ego will become so big your stardom will die."

Rachel sinks into Finn, defeated.

"Wait….stars can die?" He looks from one girl to the next for the answer.

"Of course and do you know what else died that day? Brittany, when I sang to her with my ukulele." Santana smiles at Brittany fondly, thinking of the late night cocoa marshmallow drinks they had while their feet skimmed the cool water and Santana played and sang for Brittany till she fell asleep.

"So romantic," Rachel stared starry eyed in their direction.

"Don't forget the sky-diving," Brittany brings up.

"How could I forget the first time you flew a helicopter on your own?" Santana flicks Brittany's nose.

The gesture is sickeningly sweet, and to Rachel it gives her life – she lives off romance.

"You were pretty badass your first time sky-diving, I thought you did better than the instructor?"

"Really?" Santana's stomach stirs in the not so comfortable way, "you did just as well as I did and it was your first time too."

"I guess it's our thing then." Brittany shrugs.

"Did you kiss in the air? Or recite your wedding vows to each other? I would have swooned if that happened to me." Rachel's eyes glaze over with a dreamy look, one that Finn catches.

"You're swooning now Rachel, and Finn hasn't done anything." Brittany points out. "Are you sure you're normal?"

It cracks Santana up and effectively breaks the mood to Santana's relief. There's only so much sugar she can handle.

"Finn does nice things for us all the time." Rachel says hurriedly. "He.."

"Save it for later Hudson. Wow, I'm never gonna get used to calling you that." Santana shakes her head. "Britts and I gotta go. See you next month.

"Britt, want to start up my car for me? I gotta use the bathroom." Santana hands her keys to Brittany and subtly looks over to Rachel thinking how she can get her alone.

Brittany says a quick good bye to Finn and Rachel then heads to the door.

"Wait!" Rachel shoots off the couch, "I haven't told you about the time I met Rory Flanagan, the rising star of St. James Productions."

Brittany and Santana turn simultaneously.

"Who?"

* * *

><p><em>Earlier that day:<em>

_12:00pm - Starbucks_

"Jonathan Glover, I'm Andy Roddick's representative," A tall man in his forties, graying hair shaved on the side, puts his hand out and shakes Santana's.

"Mr. Glover. Thank you for seeing me today, to be honest I was surprised by your announcement but I'm glad you thought of me to take over Andy."

They sit down and order coffee.

"You're glad I'm retiring," he laughs, "less competition for you. How will you handle both him and Novak? You know they are both hot heads."

She shrugs and smiles confidently, "I'm very good at controlling men."

Her phone rings unexpectedly.

_12:00 – Gateaux House, Bakery_

"And they say we computer geeks don't have a life," Quinn chuckles and places a basket of freshly baked pastries in front of a group of hungry girls. They do this once a week, come to Quinn's bakery for lunch.

"That's fairly accurate," Tina Cohen-Chang mutters, a caramel bagel stuffed in her Asian cheeks making her look like a chipmunk. "Apart from Quinn, the rest of us have no lives."

"Speak for yourself," Brittany replies, sipping her latte.

Tina and Sugar stare at her, and then a smile creeps onto their faces.

"You so go out and get laid don't you?" Sugar says. "If only I was as hot as you."

Brittany smiles and says nothing.

"Believe me, she's not getting laid," Quinn joins them at the table, she takes all but one look at Brittany and changes her words, "actually, I believe she is."

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Brittany lets Quinn lead her to the kitchen.

* * *

><p><em>12:30 Futsal court<em>

"What is this, little league?" Santana blocks the sun from her eyes as she tries to find the number seven jersey on the field.

"You could call it that, there he is. Promising center forward I'm telling ya." Puck points to a curly haired boy with dark skin.

"Where's your ex?" Santana asked, "Wait, don't tell me you brought the kid yourself. That is so messed up."

"Chill 'Pez," Puck pats her shoulder, "I'm dumb but I ain't stupid. Lionel came with his mom, she's over there."

"Wow Puckerman, how do women like that even fall for you?"

Puck shrugs, focusing on the game.

"So can we get on with the business? I rescheduled a meeting to be here and as much as I enjoy this family event I have other things to do."

"Don't get worked up Lopez, you're drawing suspicion."

"We're at a fuckin' kids football game, stop being delusional and tell me who I need to shoot next or it'll be you!" Santana grabs Puck by the collar and grinds the words in his ear.

"Ok, I'll tell you what I know but you're not going to like it." Puck fixes his collar and lets out a huge sigh.

_12:30 – Gateaux House, Kitchen_

"You and Santana are fucking again." Quinn says pointedly.

"We're married, how is that weird?" Brittany asks confused.

Quinn shakes her head, "Britt, is she treating you well? Is she making you do things you don't want to?"

"No, why would she do that?" Brittany's still confused.

"I know Santana ok? When she does something she has a purpose. So what do you think she's trying to do? First she tells you to give her space and no sex, that was seven days ago, now she wants you. I know she's texted you about ten times already this morning and you're sleeping together again. She's taking control of the relationship."

Brittany laughs, "Thanks for the concern Quinn, but I think this time Santana made a mistake and has now reverted to our normal ways of doing things."

"I don't want you to get hurt is all."

"I know."

Sugar comes bursting through the double doors. "Girls, there's a new case!"

Quinn makes some last minute checks with Mike who pretty much is in charge even though it's Quinn's bakery. She mostly takes care of the administration part.

"Let's go," Quinn leads Brittany out by the hand. "This sounds important, just don't let Santana's antics affect your job tonight."

* * *

><p><em>12:45 – Futsal court<em>

"That's it? You're only giving me a name? I can't work with that!"

"Technically I also told you where he works." Puck cringes away from Santana's wild hands.

"Tell the agency I'm not doing it, I'm not putting myself in danger when no one has got my back."

"You think it's that simple? You just say no?"

Santana knows Puck has a point. She can't say no or she'll be sent right back to where she came from.

"Rory Flanagan, Broadway Bieber, that's it? Puck, tell me why they're doing this." Santana pinches her nose, her mind already working at triple speed _Rory Flanagan_, _Broadway, Rachel Berry_.

"I don't know Santana, all I know is that whatever you need you have it - Back-up, ammo, everything. It's a time tight job, and you're our best."

"What happens if I don't get the person behind all this in six days?"

Puck purses his lips, he doesn't need to answer. Santana knows there's only one reward for a failed mission.

_12:45 – Flynn-Rachett Company_

"It's not him; he's not the guy we're after." Tina goes through a folder on her personal computer labeled 'Flanagan'.

Sugar, Quinn and Brittany sit at the meeting table with her searching with their own computers.

"The only criminal record he has is using and distributing drugs; that was last year." Brittany scrolls down the police report. "So how does a poor street bum become an overnight star?"

"I've got the answer to that," Quinn prints out a sheet and stabs it into the board, "It's an extraordinary story that the media licked up without question. He was picked up by Jesse St. James, the talent scout at the time, now he's the owner of his own production company. His play 'street vagabonds the musical' is a hit and it's starring Flanagan. In this interview Flanagan says it relates to his real life."

"Still telling you it's not him." Tina says again "He's just the small fish that's going to lead us to the big fish."

"I solved it!" Sugar announces, jumping out of her seat, "Rory Flanagan is related to Jesse St. James, Rory probably doesn't even know that! The real culprit is St. James!"

"The note was signed by Flanagan," Brittany says.

"Exactly, the note said _BG 321-Flanagan._ Jesse is using Rory's name to do whatever it is he's doing. If he gets caught, the boy with a criminal record will get the blame. If he succeeds, he can get rid of the boy and claim the benefits."

"We need to scatter and regroup." Quinn gathers her laptop as the other girls do the same. "Hey Brittany, don't forget we're on for tonight. I'll text you the location when I know."

"You girls have fun," Tina locks up the room behind them.

* * *

><p>"Oh, I'd actually like to hear this story. Uh, I'll just wait here with Rachel while you use the bathroom." Brittany crosses her arms and leans against the wall, ears perked.<p>

Santana's torn between using the bathroom because she actually has to but she can't miss this story. It's like god gave Rachel the burden to share this story in the exact moment she needed it without her having to be sly.

"ummm, I've been interested in seeing that musical. It'd be nice to know some details from squashed tomatoes, see if it's worth going."

"Great!" Rachel squeals precisely how Santana would picture Annie Mudge to.

"Ok, so I was rehearsing my smash hit take me or leave me duet with my partner Sunshine when in walks Rory Flanagan and a whole host of bodyguards. Seriously, I'm more famous than him and he has twice as many people to protect him."

Santana and Brittany look at each other and sigh; it was going to be a while.

"Anyways, he sat in the front row and I swear he only had eyes for me the whole time. Now that is no reason for Finn to worry." Rachel looks lovingly at her husband, "you know I only love you."

He nods like he never even thought to be jealous.

"But he was so into me, I could see his boyish charm oozing over. He really is too young, so I paid him no more attention than necessary. After that he clapped really loud and he came on stage to introduce himself. I can see why he's such a star. I told him one day I hoped I could work with him. As you know, featuring is always beneficial both ways, so I never forget to drop a line."

"And?" Santana raised an eyebrow, she'd been bored for the whole story.

"..an..and…uh…nothing. He left," Rachel looks from Brittany to Santana who are less than enthusiastic about her encounter. Finn though is grinning from ear to ear – she's totally the star of his world.

"Well, I'm glad you met him." Brittany gives Rachel a small smile of thanks and pushes herself off the wall.

"….oh but wait!" Rachel stops them again.

"this better be worth it Rach, I needs to use your bowl."

"I got tickets? I already saw his play the 'street vagabonds the musical' once but I'd love to take all of you to see it, again." Rachel grins nervously.

"You didn't tell me…" Finn begins to complain.

"Finn, that was a work thing. Now it's a friend's thing so we're all going together – that is if you want to go." Rachel turns back to Brittany and Santana.

"As long as you get us backstage, I've never been back stage before, and I think Flanagan would like to meet me." Brittany says blankly.

"Wait, why would he want to meet you?" Rachel asks. Santana waits for an explanation too, only she knows it'll be out of this world because sometimes that's what Brittany does to get her way. It's kind of adorable.

"Well you know, my ancestors are Scottish….I think. Our roots go way back they must be totally tangled. I might have even picked shamrocks with him"

"Right, I'll try to get you back stage." Rachel quickly says looking to Santana for the interpretation.

Santana shrugs and says she's going to use the bathroom.

"I never knew you grew up in Scotland" Santana says playfully, opening Brittany's car door for her. "You know, you're a genius."

"I like to think so," Brittany grins back from her car seat. "Race you home baby."


	5. Chapter 4

I'm back! hope you're enjoying the story so far.

Thanks for all the comments and alerts 3

* * *

><p>Chapter 4<p>

"So you want to tell me why you're here alone?" Dr. Richards looks Santana up and down. Her dress suit is immaculate, not a particle of dust to draw attention from the bold, silky black of her coat and skirt.

"I need advice," Santana says, checking out her perfectly painted nails for chips in the smooth red.

"Go on,"

"What would you say about my wife?"

"That's not a question I usually get asked, most people present me with a problem." Dr. Richards looks for any signs of nervousness, unease, or apprehension, but Santana is calm as an ocean.

"If I had to describe your wife I'd have to say she's very vibrant, a lovely girl, someone who is adventurous and active, always on the go…she has a positive spirit about her. She's someone people of all types would want to be acquainted with. Are you worried about her social life?"

"Not particularly, did she look…happy…with me when we were here last time?" Santana's voice hints of worry.

"I see, you're feeling insecure about your relationship although there's nothing pointing to trouble."

Santana shifts her eyes lower; a ting of pink embarrassment colors her face. "I may have done something to upset her."

"Ok, from what I could tell there wasn't much disdain for you on her part, distant maybe, but that could have been caused by your recent interactions with her. She may just be giving you space or she can't read what is going on between the two of you so she doesn't approach you."

"Sometimes I leave her out of the loop, but not on purpose. I'm just not a talker." Santana brushes over her skirt, anything to keep her hands from getting sweaty. She wasn't going to see Dr. Richards but something wasn't right with Brittany last night.

_Flashback to the night before:_

_Santana kills the engine seconds after Brittany. She would have won, they'd both made it to the curve and she had the edge but Brittany did a drift right in front of her, almost scraping the front of her car. Santana wasn't expecting it, she was almost shocked. If she hadn't hit the brakes slightly, they could have crashed, "where the hell did Brittany learn to drive like that?" she wonders. _

_Inside Brittany is half-way up the stairs, half-way undressed. She must know Santana is following closely, that her eyes would find her like they always do. _

_She doesn't follow her though. Santana walks to the patio to cool off, she needs to be calm and clear minded right now; not imagining pictures of her wife laying naked in bed waiting for her. If she's impatient maybe she'll start before her. _

_No, now is not the time. Now she needs to think about this mission. Her life is depending on it, and Brittany's. _

_She has to focus on the problem at hand, Rory Flanagan…_

"_You couldn't wait sweet-heart?" Santana says, feeling warm hands wrap around her shoulders. They press her stressed muscles into a relaxed state. _

"_Sometimes you think too much and don't say enough, honey." Her wife whispers from behind like a ghost wind. She shivers but not from the cool breeze. "We should take a vacation. To the Maldives maybe, re-live those nights." _

_Santana's brain stopped working a long time ago. All she can do now is try to keep her breathing organs functioning – her wife is being very suggestive. After going a whole week without intimacy and only breaking her rule once she wants her so bad. _

"_What my wife wants my wife gets," She says, voice like velvet, soft and smooth enough to wrap a heart. "In a week I promise we'll get away from all this." _

_There's double meaning in her words, she knows what she has to do if she doesn't want her life to be under this shadow forever. _

"_I'd like that," Her wife's voice is just as gripping. "I miss you; right now I want to…"_

_She never finishes her sentence. Her wife looks at her with an uncommon fear that's never existed before. _

"_I want you too Brittany, I will always want you." _

_Brittany gives her a weak smile before kissing her softly. _

_What happens next is intense. Santana doesn't think she's ever broken a window while doing it before, but tonight Brittany drives her crazy._

_Just before she fell asleep wrapped up in Brittany's arms, she heard her say, "I wish things were different."_

"Well, then you know what you have to do." Dr. Richards smiles. "Communication, or should I say lack of, is one of the main causes for troubled marriages. Why don't you take her on a date, talk but don't have sex. I know physical intimacy is sometimes easier but that's just prolonging the real problem. If it turns out your problem is serious then you are both welcome to come back and talk to me. I have a couple tuning program that can help."

Santana picks herself with natural poise and extends her hand. "Thank you for your advice Dr."

She's never come home to a dark, empty house. It's not like Brittany. Whenever her wife is in, all the lights are on, even the ones not necessary.

She picks up her phone immediately, bypassing all her contacts to 'family' that contains only one number.

"San, are you home now? Oh, gosh I forgot to tell you I was going to run a bit late… don't worry about dinner I'm buying in. Wait a bit ok, I'll be home soon. Love you!"

Her 'hey Britt,' is left on her tongue when the line cuts.

An hour later Santana watches television idly, and checks her phone for the tenth time. She swears if in another ten minutes Brittany isn't home, she's calling again.

She sets her phone down and reevaluates the information she's found. Rory is the son of Robert Flanagan, owner of large oil stocks. The Flanagan's family business is exporting frozen lamb. They sent Rory to an expensive Catholic school where he caused nothing but mischief selling 'unclean' things like erotic DVD's, bracelets with questionable charms, and comic books.

The school masters expelled him immediately.

The only record Santana has after that is a detailed police statement about Rory being caught red-handed selling drugs and using them.

"Puck said not to kill…" she says out loud.

"I'm so sorry honey," Brittany comes through the door in haste almost knocking it off its hinges.

"It's fine, why are you wearing glasses?" Santana gets up to help her wife with the bags of food she's carrying.

"Oh," Brittany laughs adorably, "It helped me get a job."

"What? You don't need a job Britt. Did you get fired from your last job? Because I will personally speak to your boss and he won't like what I have to say."

She forgets about the growl in her stomach and the food on the counter.

"No, it's not like that Santana. I'm getting a second job."

"Why? You don't need a second job; I don't want you to have a second job."

"Excuse me?"

"What? You're not taking it!"

Brittany shakes her head in bewilderment. She rests her hands on her hips waiting for an explanation.

"Britt, there's something you aren't telling me."

Brittany scoffs, rolls her eyes and her sleeves up as she begins setting the table for dinner.

"Talk to me!" Santana shouts, pulling the plates away. "Why do you need another job? Do I not provide enough for us? Is this you getting yourself on your feet so that you can walk away from me with somebody else?"

"Do you hear the bullshit coming out of your mouth?" Brittany shouts back when she's had enough.

"Well, don't leave me guessing. I'm sure your story is much more riveting." Santana bites with sarcasm.

"It's just a temporary job ok? You know how I said that I would like to be the author of children's books someday?"

Santana remembers well, they had a conversation about that which led to a conversation about children. She'd never forget how Brittany said in a few years they'd have kids. It excited Santana so much knowing her option window would become open soon, a perfect time to change her lifestyle to one more suited for raising the kids that she secretly wanted.

"I remember," Santana answers quietly.

"This publishing company has an opening for an editor, I took a shot at it not expecting to get it but I did. I was going to tell you but I wasn't sure. And now well, you know – I guess we don't need the champagne."

With a frown sketched to her face Brittany continues to set the table and lay the food out.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have assumed or gotten mad…" Santana tries to hold Brittany from behind but she spins out of her loose grasp to put a jug of water and two glasses on the table.

"I'm tired Santana, we'll talk about it later." Brittany says as she sits down to put one spoonful in her mouth after the next without the least bit of enjoyment. She's mad at Santana for implying something so horrible that she'd never think about, but she feels bad for lying most of all.

_Flashback earlier that day:_

"_What have you got Tina?" Quinn asks, switching her ipad on. _

"_Orders to kill Flanagan." _

_It comes as a shock to all around the table. _

"_What? We've only been investigating for a day! How can they know already?" Brittany looks at the notes she spent all night writing. Well, not all night, half of it she spent making her wife scream but the other half that stretched into morning that stretched into hours of endless coffee cups and sagging eyes, she spent researching on Jesse St. James. They couldn't already have an order to kill. _

"_It's not our duty to question, only do." Tina shrugs. "So, let's set a plan." _

_Sugar sighs, puts a few pictures of questionable figures back in her purse and follows Tina out of Quinn's bakery. _

_Quinn doesn't look convinced, and Brittany sees it as her chance of an ally. _

"_I still think he's innocent," Brittany scoots closer and whispers. _

"_I'm not sure of that, but if we kill him now we'll never know." _

_Quinn is hardly ever wrong, she has instincts about these things and if they are saying to wait up then Brittany believes they should. Now it's her job to convince the other two girls._

"_Tina, think about it. They're just going for the easy way out! They don't know anything. It's possible that Rory was set-up and now he's going to have to die. That's just playing along with their plan!"_

"_They, their, who Brittany?" Tina retaliates. "We don't know anyone involved. We take orders from a voice on a machine, they could be the 'bad guys' for all I know, but see? I don't know, and neither do you. We've never questioned killing others on command before, why now?" _

"_Because, we won't be helping them solve the problem by killing the wrong guy. They are being impulsive and shooting at whatever pops up first because they're desperate. Which means this thing is much bigger than a regular little robbery or signature forge." _

"_Brittany's got a point," Sugar squeaks, "Our instructions have always been clear-cut. This, we hardly have information and they're sending us to finish the job." _

_Tina sighs, "What do you want to do then?" _

"_Jesse St. James runs a pretty big production company, we need someone on the inside…"_

"_It'll take too much time; we need to kill someone by Friday." Tina shoots down Quinn's idea._

"_No, listen. We have Brittany be our mole for a day or two. If something's going to happen it's going to happen soon. We'll find out, underwater activity may be subtle but it's there, it won't escape us."_

_Everyone nods their heads in agreement. _

"_Wait, why me?" Brittany asks. _

"_Because you're best on the field, and you'll charm Jesse into giving you the information we want." Quinn crosses her arms as if to say, 'dare to disagree'._

"_Can I talk to you for a second?" Brittany pulls her friend by the arms to the corner of the street. _

"_I can't do it. What if it requires me to do something with him that I don't like? Even if I get through doing it I'll feel guilty, I can't do that to Santana." _

"_Leave Santana out of this Brittany," Quinn says sternly, "Remember, your job comes first." _

"_NO," Brittany shakes her head, "not anymore. After this is done, I'm quitting." _

"_You can decide that later but right now you don't have a choice. Do it for the team?" _

"_For the last time," Brittany murmurs and turns back towards the other two. "Let's do this." _

Brittany clears the dishes, washes them and dries them before getting ready to run. Santana is doing her routine Paula Abdul which Brittany likes to laugh at, that's why Santana locks the den now so Brittany can't get it. Of course once Brittany's left the house Santana puts on her combat DVD.

Brittany runs at full-speed for four kilometers, feeling the wind leave her body until she stops to refill her lungs again. She loves to run, to push herself more each day. She knows Santana loves it to, she regularly comments on how hot Brittany's body looks in bed which is a great motivation besides that she has to stay fit for her job.

A horn beeps and Brittany crosses the road.

"Hey Q, got the details for me?"

"Sure do," Quinn slips a folded paper through her half rolled down window.

"Are you going on a date Quinn Fabray?" Brittany teases, knowing the reason Quinn didn't roll her window down fully was so she couldn't see her all dressed up.

"Shut up Brittany, I'm allowed to have a life."

"And what, you don't think I do? Just because I'm married doesn't mean I don't have a life. My wife is sexier than every woman in this town and I get to bang her every night." Brittany winks.

"Too much information Brittany, and thank god I like men."

"So who is it?" Brittany's breathing speeds, not from exercise but excitement.

Quinn looks like she doesn't want to tell. "If it goes well I'll fill you in tomorrow."

"ugh, you are no fun Quinn," Brittany whines but waves goodbye as her friend winks and drives away.

"Are you still mad at me?" Santana asks.

Brittany's too distracted by the sweat rolling down Santana's cleavage to answer.

"Like what you see?" Santana teases, taking Brittany's hand and running it down the same path as her eyes just roamed. She steps closer, pinning Brittany to the front door, "you can do whatever you want with me tonight."

Brittany doesn't have to think twice, her head is already nodding. "Wait here,"

That being said she runs up the stairs three at a time to their bedroom where she strips. The folded paper Quinn gave her falls to the ground.

She's looking for a place to put it when Santana appears at the door. Her eyes are hungry the moment they set on Brittany's naked form.

"I told you to wait Santana; you said you'd do what I say."

"Except wait, I can't wait."

Brittany rolls her eyes as Santana stalks forward not moving fast enough to scare Brittany but she's already devouring her with a killer look.

"Can you ummm…set the bath, with bubbles. I'll be there in a minute." Brittany buys more time as Santana changes courses for the bathroom.

Quickly she puts the slip of paper in one of her shoes in the cupboard.

"Sweetheart, how much longer are you going to make me wait?" Santana calls from the bathroom and Brittany goes running.

She can never resist that tone of voice or the words that promise her she'll regret waiting any longer.

Santana is already in the bath. She beckons Brittany with a twist of her finger and Brittany walks like she's hypnotized.

Her wife naked is a revelation, no one can blame her.

"I decided to change the rules because you were slow." Santana runs her hands up and down her long wet legs raised above water. "I'm going to do whatever I want with you as long as I know you're going to love it."

"And..h..how will you know what I love?" Brittany sits on the edge of the tub and dips her hand into the sudsy, warm pool.

"Let's see…what if I start with this?"

Santana pulls Brittany's legs carefully over the side of the tub so they're half sunk into the foam bath. She begins massaging Brittany's heels, her head moves towards the skin of Brittany's thighs and she presses light kisses to one knee.

Her mouth travels up as does her hands that now stroke Brittany's calves, working out the muscles hard from Brittany's run.

Brittany expects her to wait, to tease her, to draw this game out but she doesn't. When Santana's mouth reaches her core she doesn't stop.

Santana spreads Brittany's legs wider till she's barely keeping balance on the edge. Brittany's hands grip Santana's wet hair, all tangled and gorgeous around her face.

Brittany loves to watch Santana eat her out just as much as she loves the feeling of falling from her high.

"You taste delicious," Santana moans against Brittany, tongue never stopping its path from nub to ring of muscles.

"Oh…uh…umm," Brittany's sure her legs are cramped and her butt is sore but she can't feel anything besides what Santana is doing to her. "God, I love you baby."

She holds Santana's head tight to stomach as it contracts repeatedly. "You're so good at that." She lets her body slump and slide as dead weight into the water.

"I don't like your new rule," Brittany says once semi recovered.

"Did you not just orgasm? I'm pretty sure you liked it," Santana runs her hands through Brittany's hair, undoing the knots before slowly dipping her head into the water.

"It was ok, it wasn't what I wanted you to do though."

"What do you want me to do Mrs. Wife? Maybe I can fulfill your wishes." Santana adds shampoo and begins kneading it into Brittany's hair gently, scratching her skulls with her tidy short nails, and rubbing behind Brittany's ears just how she likes it.

"How should I describe it? We've never had sex in that position before."

"Oh?"

Brittany smirks at Santana's curious squeak.

"Let me see, I'm picturing a hammock, a stripper, some sexy music, being fucked with a dildo on a swinging hammock. How do you like it so far?"

"There's more?" Santana is barely able to say, her throat going dry at the visual.

"If you want there to be," Brittany shrugs, "we could do the 69 on the hammock, then I could fuck you on the floor till your ass is red from friction…I could fuck you in the…."

"Brittany, you're going to make me come with your words," Santana chuckles

"That good huh?" A smirk plays on the corner of Brittany's lips. "You know what I want to do right now?"

"What?" Santana knows whatever it is it will be good.

"Get on my shoulders," Brittany lifts Santana onto the edge of the tub where she previously sat and locks both her legs around her head. Slowly she stands up, wobbling Santana like blocks on a high tower as she steps out of the tub and walks to the mirror.

"I'm loving the view right now," she chuckles.

"Are you just going to look?" Santana hurries her.

"Look into the mirror Santana, when I make you come I want you to look in the mirror and see how beautiful you look when you fall apart."

Brittany's words are a trigger to Santana. She's wet before Brittany even touches her but when she does, Santana nearly blows.

As promised, she doesn't watch Brittany work, just watches herself in the mirror. Her hands hold tightly to Brittany's head. She watches the strong muscles in Brittany's back flex and relax, she finds it incredibly sexy how Brittany is so ripped.

It doesn't take long till she's watching herself fall apart. She doesn't look as good as Brittany when she comes, but the image of herself gasping for breath and repeating Brittany's name turns her on all over again and without warning she comes a second time.

They're both exhausted when they dry their hair with a quick toweling down and collapse on the bed.

"Can we keep those beautiful pictures for next time Britt?" Santana asks. "Just thinking about them turns me on but I don't have the energy for a freaking hammock."

"mmmm," Brittany agrees, "another time, but I'm still not done for tonight."

"I'll give it to you as many times as you can handle on this bed." Santana rolls over on top of Brittany and begins to suck one of her pink nipples; she drags her fingers through Brittany's folds. "You are so ready for me."

* * *

><p>A little glimpse into their sex life.<p>

Sorry it's not too long and didn't progress the story much but I had to establish their relationship so people aren't confused.

Do you think Santana or Brittany should be more angry when the truth comes out?


	6. Chapter 5

**Thank so much for all the reviews, you are the best!**

**I have a lousy habit of not answering people, sorry. **

**sharkgeek - once all the shit goes down, I'm thinking of throwing in a little bit of jealous Santana**

**nayalove - they both do pretty much the same thing and they're both hiding it from each other. Now that's getting in the way and going to cause friction. **

**crystalynn2006 - that's what I want you to believe :P**

**hamonrye - you'll have to wait and see. This chapter describes her job a little bit**

**I have so much fun writing this, I can hardly wait for me to update lol. I hope you have fun reading it as well.**

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><p>Chapter 5<p>

"Oh shit," Brittany slaps the pillow next to her where Santana should be but of course she's not there that's why she lets her arm fall helpless. She's going to be so late.

The first thing she does is text Santana

_TO SANTANA:_

_Why didn't you wake me up honey! My new boss isn't going to be impressed and it's all your fault _

_FROM SANTANA:_

_Thought you had a day off, I wish I did. I can't even sit straight and I have a meeting in five. Last night was really something :p_

Brittany smiles to herself, of course it was something. It was like a dozen orgasms.

She thinks fast of what she has to do. Shower is one, can't go to work smelling like a sex machine. She runs her hands over her suits in her closet and picks one at random, discards the jacket and lays the white button down and skirt on the bed. On second thought she dashes to Santana's closet remembering a certain piece of paper.

It's not there, neither is the matching boot. Shit.

_TO SANTANA: _

_Are you wearing your black knee high boots?_

_FROM SANTANA:_

_Yeah. You didn't tell me you wanted them today._

_TO SANTANA: _

_It's alright, just wanted to know. I'm running late have a good day honey._

_FROM SANTANA: _

_Same to you baby, I love you. I'll call you in a bit. 3_

Brittany sighs. She thinks of sending Santana another text warning her not to look in the boot but then Santana will definitely look so she throws her phone on the bed and hops in the shower.

* * *

><p>Brittany had called Rachel to ask for directions to St. James headquarters. Rachel said she was doing her a huge favor by even talking on the phone during her break; her vocal glands were suffering with every word she said. She sure said a lot of words for someone who didn't want to talk. If Rachel had only given her the address from the get go, she'd be sparing her voice 24 more hours of life.<p>

She got it anyways along with an earful of Rachel's theories that expanded longer than advanced calculus. Rachel should have bought her excuse that she was going there to get Rory's signature because she didn't believe Rachel could get them VIP passes. Brittany smiled a wicked grin to herself. Now she was sure to get a pass because Rachel had practically swore on the earth's destruction that she could get one, and Rachel just used up about another two years of voice life.

St. James Production wasn't far from her neighborhood, which she thanked the heavens for, being ten minutes late isn't too bad an impression. Some people are never late but they always look like they planned to arrive right on the dot, only they're heaving and wiping sweat off with the arms of their shirt, gross, which says they would have been late if they hadn't scurried to knock that other person off the bus to get in first. At least she looked like she used those extra ten minutes to look like Maria Sharapova and do her makeup to Scarlett Johansson perfection.

With confidence, Brittany pushes through the revolving doors, click-clacking in perfect rhythm all the way up to the front counter.

"I'm here to see Mr. St. James," She looks at the reception guy with disinterested.

"Do you have an appointment?"

Brittany notices how his thick Indian eyebrows wiggle like caterpillars. Who does he think he is? She really can't respect a guy bush brows that thick, seriously, something could fall into them and it'd be irretrievable.

"I don't have all day Raj," She says in a monotone bored way. If she wasn't a kick ass agent she could totally be an actress, maybe she could try it after she finishes cleaning this job.

"Ok, name." He lays the accent on thick, like Brittany didn't already know he was an illegal immigrant who managed to get a decent job.

"You know what, Mr….don't have a name tag? I'm calling Mr. St. James right now and you'll be glad if you don't lose your job."

Brittany makes a snobbish face at him and digs her phone out of her purse.

Ten missed calls from Quinn, uh-oh. Brittany pretends to dial a number instead of calling Quinn back, she knows she's in trouble.

In true bitch fashion she flicks her hair over one shoulder and rolls her eyes at the clearly inappropriate looks some nearby men, including Indian face, are giving her.

Brittany really doesn't know what to do. How she's even supposed to get in or what she's supposed to say to St. James. She should just get over herself and call Quinn, confess and bear through her wrath.

As if God himself saw the plight of his hand-maiden, Jesse St. James walks out of the elevator in all his Armani Glory. She'd have thought he was God if he didn't pull down his shades to get a better look at her ass as he circled to the other side of her. God wouldn't have checked her out, that's like gross because she's supposed to be his daughter or something; whatever, she can't remember stuff from Sunday school so well anymore.

"Well, well Ms. Lavender … already an improvement from my last secretary. God, I hate those suit jackets with a million buttons."

So charming. Woman probably fall to his feet and worship his voice, he actually sounds like he could be a good singer. Rachel would have the same smooth effect if she didn't insist on emphasizing everything till the whole thing was an exclamation point.

"Actually, its _La'-van-de, _It's French," She counters. Actually it isn't, but anything to annoy him. Guys love annoying bitches; Mr. Japati is already completely in love with her. On another note, someone has really bad tastes in names. When her child comes along, Quinn is not naming him or her – no chance in hell.

"Ah," Jesse St. James says more amused than annoyed, "then I presume your name is pronounced _Fee-lee-pa,_ rather than Phil –lip-pa."

Her day just gets worse.

"Whatever suits you Mr. St. James."

He throws his head back, like really throws his head back. Brittany sees about twenty flies fly in and out of his mouth.

"Oh, look. At. The. Time." He has trouble even seeing the time with his shades on. "Best be going, you'll learn your job on the way."

* * *

><p>When Brittany was first assigned to be a programmer as her cover job she wasn't thrilled. Who wants to sit in front of a computer and pretend to put in stupid codes all day? Turns out that was fun and she soon learned to not always put in the right code – wrong codes were even more fun when you figure out how to put them in right.<p>

This job blows compared to her real, not real job. And also kind of confusing.

If Brittany wrote a journal, which she certainly does not do (who has the patience for those things?) she'd describe her morning like this.

_So, basically smooth criminal tells me to follow him with a bend of his finger, like seriously which macho man does that? Then I'm trapped in the middle of all these hunky body guards, I'm pretty tall but they are like ridiculous. Actually I should jot that down in a notebook, why does he have so many bodyguards, it's like he knows he's a criminal daring the police to find out what he's done. _

_His car is pretty nice, although it's boring after a while. He was so disappointed when my eyes didn't light up and I didn't start pressing every button and playing with things like I was in a new playground with a billion toys I'd never seen before. Well newsflash Mr. cool guy, I drive in limousines all the time, also helicopters and jet planes…so yeah, this is pretty boring even though there are some crazy gadgets in it that are absolutely useless – sunglass washing machine, blow dryer, wiper, waxer - really? _

_I guess shades are important when you're doing shady business. It's so no one can see into your eyes, people can know everything from looking into them. _

_But haha, I'm not just people, I don't need to look into your eyes smarty pants – I know what you're up to, too bad for you it isn't vice versa. _

"_Sorry if you didn't catch a few things here and there, happens to all newbies," Like hell I didn't catch a few things, PGP language obviously isn't supposed to be caught otherwise why encrypt it? Well, everything I was supposed to write about your business transactions are being sent to a place you really don't want them to be. Who you spying on heh? That guy, Martin wasn't a business partner, he was your personal bodyguard, I know cause I heard him talking to you before sending you along on this god awful long ride around the city. Like really, who just rides around the city in a limousine? Might as well not have an office. _

"_Let me take a look at your notes," _

_Sure you can see them. The file for you of course, it's got all the details you need to enact your evil plans with the names of all your cohorts. _

"_Wow, you are good." _

_I hate your smile. You aren't even as handsome as Channing Tatum. _

"_That'll be it for today Ms. La'-von-dere', you're doing an excellent job." _

_Sure I am, you'll be dead or in prison before you get to go on that trip back to Ireland I saw scheduled for next week. _

"_I'd invite you to lunch but it's a private family matter, maybe tomorrow."_

_Or maybe never._

"_You are going to love the places I take you, the jobs I give you, and of course the compensation."_

_Disgusting, I won't suck your dick for a zillion dollars. Also touch me again, no, graze me again, and your little finger will be sorry it ever came near me._

* * *

><p>"Santana doesn't know I'm here," Brittany looks at the door for the third time in two minutes.<p>

"Coming here is your choice, whether your wife knows or not isn't my concern. Now, how can I help you?" Dr. Richards leans comfortably on her left armrest, hands folded in a patient stance.

"Right, ummm…I actually don't have a lot of time and I have a lot to say but I don't know how to say it. Am I making sense? No, probably not …"

"Mrs. Lopez, would you like a fresh mint? I also have some very nice dark chocolate from Switzerland." Dr. Richards gets up and reaches into a beautifully carved compartment concealed in between the book case.

Brittany finds it odd she keeps her stash there.

"My cousin loves to bring them back from her trips; she works as secretary for the American ambassador there. Try one."

Dr. Richards puts the box of various white and dark chocolates in front of Brittany as she seats herself once more.

It isn't really polite to stare at them Brittany thinks so she takes one, out of good manners of course.

"Tell me about what Mrs. Lopez likes to do in her free time."

"Me? I like to do Santana….and…"

"No, I meant your wife."

"Oh, she mostly likes to do me," Brittany says without a hint of shame, "but I guess she likes to work in the garden, play with car engines, jump off of high things, I think this year she's going on this free-runner program. I hope she asks me to join her, I love running."

"Are you ok with how she uses her free time? Do you feel as if she spends too much time on these activities instead of with you?"

"Oh no," Brittany jumps a little, "she definitely puts me first. We do a lot of those things together actually."

"So, what seems to be the problem?"

"It's complicated," She settles into her chair with the wind blown out of her once again. "How far would you go to protect someone you love?"

"Is your wife in danger?"

"No, but there's always a possibility…like my job can be…hazardous."

"What sort of danger could possibly take place? If I'm correct you work as a computer programmer. And I'm assuming the danger is not you faltering or causing yourself physical harm, otherwise you wouldn't have mentioned protecting her."

"Well, you know…people don't always like programmers because they can pretty much get up in anyone's business." Brittany smiles sheepishly.

"Do you have the dirt on someone who might later seek revenge on you and yours?" Dr. Richards sits-up a bit straighter.

"Not exactly," Brittany buries her head in her hands, "I have a bad feeling about the job I've taken on and I don't want her to be hurt because of it…because of me."

"You should talk to her about it."

"But I can't! It's like …a super secret job…like Spiderman but without a costume. If she knows, I don't even want to know what will happen if she finds out."

"It's not healthy to have big secrets when you're in a relationship. You've been married for 6 years..."

"Seven...and a half"

"…Seven years, and dishonesty is one of those things that can ruin it in seconds. You have to decide if keeping something potentially damaging hidden is worth it, she's going to find out one day…you know it."

Brittany bites her lip. She's been trapped in warehouses, sewers and chimneys' before but nothing feels more suffocating than being trapped in a lie.

"So you think I should tell her?"

"I think you should let her know how you're feeling."

"Ok," Brittany exits the office chin drooping to her chest.

* * *

><p>When Brittany gets home she's thought of a million ways to break the news that she's never been the girl Santana thinks she is. She also thinks of the repercussions. On one extreme, Santana could take it badly and their marriage could be over on the other side of the pendulum Santana could …the more Brittany thinks the less chance she can see of a positive outcome. Santana might forgive her for lying about their whole life together, but will they ever be the same? Not telling Santana and have her find out eventually would be just as bad.<p>

There really is no good way out, and now she's got a killer headache.

Quinn keeps calling again and again, and Brittany knows she's just waiting to give her a piece of her mind so she lets Jason Mraz sing till she's irritated with his happy, carefree voice and turns her phone off altogether.

* * *

><p>"See you tonight Sam," Santana puts her fist up for him to knock before stuffing her briefcase with her work.<p>

She'd asked for Sam to be her assistant when she learned he was good at spotting sport talent, and he also made a good companion.

The day's work done, the duo agreed to meet later that night with Puck to go over their plans to kill Rory Flanagan.

Santana had asked Puck for some specific resources which Puck easily located. They were set to finish the job, even if it was risky not knowing the big picture. To them it was just a job; they followed the orders and picked up their paychecks.

To Santana though it meant another day to live, and soon it'd mean leaving behind a life of deception for one of honesty which she had been dreaming about lately.

She thinks of calling Brittany and telling her she's staying out late and not coming home for dinner. But she misses her sweet voice, her soft kisses, and her warm embrace.

Brittany won't mind her going out again as long as she goes home for dinner, because it's something they don't miss – ever.

Santana creaks open the door to their bedroom. She knew Brittany would be there since Brittany's car was in the garage but only their bedroom light shone dim, the rest of the house was dark when she entered.

Brittany must have been sleeping for awhile, Santana thinks since she forgot to make dinner. It isn't a problem, Santana just ordered Italian for them.

The sounds of the door opening, feet padding, and a body falling tired onto the bed, alerts Brittany to Santana's presence. She knows Santana's been home for a little while already, she heard her kill the engine even though Santana claims its stealth silent.

"Are you sick?" She puts the back of her hand to Brittany's forehead, feeling for heat. "You're kind of hot, should I check your temperature."

"No, I'm fine." Brittany stays talking to the wall.

So much for hurrying home expecting her wife to be all over her.

"Ok then, I'm just going to microwave some food for us. We can eat in bed if you don't feel like going down."

"You didn't even ask what I wanted."

Santana knows Brittany is pouting, she can hear the slight lisp.

"Sorry, what do you want to eat?"

"I want to eat out."

Her answer surprises Santana, usually she's the one getting them out of the house.

"Let's go then," Santana says enthusiastically. "Oh, wait. I have some paperwork to do with a colleague in an hour."

Brittany sits up straight, eyes wide albeit tired. "You can't! We're going on a date…I had it all planned…in my head."

"It's too short notice Britt," Santana whines, careful not to whine too much or Brittany will bring out the pout and she'll be forced to stop faking. "Can it be tomorrow?"

"But…ok,"

"You know I want to be with you rather then filling in forms, right?"

"Whatever."

Santana sighs. When Brittany says 'whatever' she really means fuck off and leave me alone now.

"I'll make it up to you ok? How about you get that hammock ready?" By the slight change on Brittany's face Santana knows she's won. She climbs onto the bed, right up to take Brittany's lobe in her mouth, "get it ready real good, you won't be sorry you're fantasy comes true."

With that Santana walks out shouting behind her if green-curry and rice is ok.

Brittany would be totally ok with how things worked out, except now she's being delayed. She had mustered up all her courage to spill the life altering news but now it's gone and she doesn't know if she'll be able to build it up again tomorrow.

She puts on a smile and pretends to be enjoying her meal anyways, for Santana's sake. She can't help but stare at Santana longingly as if she's already lost the love of her life.

If tonight is going to be their last like this then she's going to make it memorable, Santana will never forget her or what they had when she decides to leave or kick her out.

"That bad huh Britt?" Santana says after catching Brittany looking at her yet again, Brittany wants her bad.

"I can't wait for you to get back," Brittany's voice is husky and sexy and just about makes Santana cancel all her plans. But she can't, she's doing this for them.

"We could always…."

Brittany's already straddling her, taking the spoon out of her hand and pressing her head into her shoulder.

Santana's frozen for about two seconds before she regains control of her limbs and hugs Brittany tightly. "Hey sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I just…I want you to always remember one thing, remember how much I loved…love you. No one will ever love you as much as I do."

Santana doesn't know why but this moment is way too real, way too sentimental, and way too much like a nightmare she's been having of Brittany saying goodbye, sometimes it's Brittany dying or she's dying, either way it never ends good.

"Britt, you know you're stuck with me forever right? I want you to know that too."

Brittany just smiles knowing better and gets off Santana's lap. "You should probably get ready to leave soon honey, it's almost eight."

"I need a kiss from my wife first," Santana says seriously.

Brittany gives her what she needs, slowly, carefully, savoring every taste and every promise till their lips break apart and shatter them to pieces.

"I love you Britt, always"

"I know you do,"

And there it is the worst promise of them all.

* * *

><p>"Hey Santana," Sam opens the door to his apartment. It's not even a room, hardly – at least it's tidy.<p>

"So this is your top secret place huh?" Santana gives him a half hug and gets comfortable on his comforter. "Show me what you've got."

Sam and Puck had been given a list of assets for the job; it was a lot so Santana knew this was a big fish.

"Did you manage to get his schedule for the next few days?" Santana runs over the list of weapons, vehicles, and other field agents assigned to her.

Sam looks a bit sheepish biting his lip.

"You don't?" Santana doesn't want to believe it; sometimes her guys can be dumb as lambs. She feels like giving them to Robert Flanagan to chop up and ship off.

"We have up to this morning but we couldn't get through their system today, I swear it's pentagon level stuff. We've still got our experts on it."

"Fine, get me his schedule so far," Santana nearly dismisses the subject, "no wait, can I get the encrypted files? I have a source that might be able to help."

"Santana, you know we aren't allowed to involve outsiders."

"I know, I'm just going to ask a few questions that's all. I won't let them touch it." Santana holds her breath.

"Alright," Sam says after squinting into the light real hard, his method of thinking, "I'll get it to you tomorrow."

"Do we have people following him 24/7?"

"No, he's not in the country anymore."

"What! How are we supposed to kill him then?" Santana has this push pull feeling like the more they try to execute the next part of the plan they're moving a step backwards.

"No, that's not possible…we have tickets!" She suddenly remembered the phone call she'd gotten from Rachel about tickets to his show tomorrow night.

"You have tickets to his show? Who are you going with?" Sam asks.

"Date, she uhh…she likes him."

"Oh," Sam runs his hands through his long, messy hair, "I guess that schedule is useless then. He's hiding out somewhere we don't know."

"Look," Santana gets to business; all the missing information is not helping her move closer to nailing him. "I'm going to go home now, you keep me posted. Get me the encrypted schedule."

"Ok," Sam says. He's clearly tired and probably hungry.

He'd only joined their forces recently; the new guys rarely get nice compensation until they become team leaders like Santana.

* * *

><p>Santana bid him goodnight and headed out to her car as quick as possible.<p>

She races home only to be greeted by a dark house.

Curious, she slips inside the screen door at the back and feels for her pocket knife. As she walks up the stairs she realizes the house isn't completely dark, there are candles lit dimly on the second floor.

"Brittany?" she calls but gets no answer.

Santana walks straight to their bedroom. It's just how she left it.

"What happened to the hammocks darling?" Santana says out loud calling out to Brittany.

From behind she feels warm lips press against her bare neck and she relaxes. She closes her eyes as she sinks into Brittany, soft and warm and safe.

When she opens them again she can't see. There's a blindfold stopping her from seeing the angelic face she loves so much.

"Is this a game baby?" Santana says playfully, "I liked your other idea better. I want to see you."

Brittany's voice comes out deep and troubled, "you can't."

* * *

><p><strong>Something bad happened to Brittany while Santana was gone, try and read my mind :D<strong>

**I'd love to hear what you think of the story so far. The plot is definitely thickening.**


	7. Chapter 6

Here's another chapter. Thank you for all the alerts and reviews.

**A'sTodayPartiesTomorrow** - glad you think this story is awesome. I love to write it.

**GStarrahhxx72** - That would have moved the story along pretty quickly, but unfortunately that's not what happened

**Blueskkies** - nothing too bad, I promise

**wkgreen** - yep, they find out pretty soon

**SaoirseH** - keep holding on! The rides just begun

**dundeegirl1** - something like that, you'll find out in this chapter

**bmal92** - Brittany is still completely unaware. I can spoil that they start suspecting each other at the same time.

**sharkgeek** - I know Santana's lying too but the way she sees their relationship is a little different than Brittany's. Santana is going to flip.

**jtour** - wow, you just made my day. Thank you.

**nayalove** - Brittany plans on telling her but will she get to? I'll keep you guessing.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Chapter 6<p>

"What are you doing Brittany?"

Five long minutes passed, the only sounds Santana heard were the shuffling of things around the room.

She would have ripped off the blind-fold if Brittany hadn't asked her to keep it on. But she was having trouble waiting.

It didn't last long, to her surprise it was whipped off not seconds after she started changing the weight from her left foot to her right foot anxiously.

"Hey," Brittany smiled. In the dim light shining behind her, her face was dark but Santana knew only one word – beautiful.

"What was that all about?" She stayed rooted in her spot. She'd been on the edge all day about this mission she had so many pieces and not enough, to top it off something in her gut just didn't feel right. She didn't want to feel like that in her own home, with her wife.

That's why right now she's not making a move on Brittany. She needs her mind to get back into that calming place. Usually it's Brittany who takes her there but tonight it's Brittany that's preventing her.

"Brittany, tell me what's wrong." Santana demanded. If Santana knew anything its hesitation, it allows for a make or break moment, a window of escape, a minute to calculate, to think of something – it's a moment that no one knows what will happen. Santana hates it.

"Are you scared?" Brittany's entire complexion changed with the blink of an eye, Santana knew she lost it. That moment of hesitation, that opportunity to discover something that might help release the weight in her stomach is gone.

Brittany turned coy, her voice imitating someone else – a sexy vixen ready for the kill. Santana loses grip of reality for a moment. It's hard to stay grounded when her brain is playing a sloppy game of rubix.

She knew Brittany had her exactly where she wanted her to be. A pawn in her hand for whatever game she's going to play.

Sometimes having no power can be scary, sometimes it's thrilling.

"I'm scared, I'm absolutely frightened."

It's the correct answer.

They'd done this before, sex with mind games. Sometimes it's really good, sometimes it's confusing, sometimes it's just plain bad; but it's always a risk, a flip of the coin.

It was a game of wits and quick reflexes. Santana's sure no one had more creative sex then her and Brittany. They used their bodies and minds in much more complex ways – it's crazy.

Whatever game Brittany was up to tonight, it was working on her.

"I'm going to be honest with you San, I don't like it when you leave me at the drop of a hat. Right now I want to smash your phone, and send all your secret callers to hell. They shouldn't have you when you're at home, you don't belong to them. Do you agree?"

Santana gulped. Had Brittany finally had enough of all the secrecy? Santana didn't think of it as that. They both had other lives, private ones which the other was expected to respect. Was Brittany going cross that line now?

"Answer me."

"Yes. I'm married I shouldn't be going out at night with those secret callers."

"I'm glad you agree." Brittany growled.

Time is a funny thing. It has this elastic quality. Sometime it feels like forever, sometimes only a second. It warps too, one minute you're sure you see something, in another you don't – it's gone and you're left wondering if it was really there in the first place.

Santana felt Brittany breathing down her neck. A moment ago she was looking at Brittany's face, now she's staring at the streetlight outside the window.

Silently, Brittany removed Santana's tank top. Santana shivered as a cold blade lightly trailed down her back and then she's completely exposed from the waist up.

The knife cut through all the layers. Santana didn't have to look to know they were piled in front of her feet.

"I should mark you as mine,"

The sharp tip danced along the skin of Santana's back sending tingles everywhere.

"Do it." Santana's reply was cutting. "Let them know, I want everyone to know."

She closed her eyes and waited for it, braced herself. Behind her shut eyelids she could see the scars 'MY WIFE MINE'. She didn't suppress her moan.

"You like it don't you? Being owned, being a slave to someone. You desire it, you crave it. The pain only makes it more real, more addicting."

Santana held her breath as ten nails scratch her back. She's so aroused her muscles tensed, bulging at her shoulders.

"I loved to be punished till I'm raw, till I can't bear your touch any longer." Santana said through gritted teeth. She felt like she was suffocating under Brittany's hands around her neck squeezing gently.

Her eyes were still shut as she was made to walk to the bed. She voluntarily raised her hands at Brittany's command and smiled, satisfied when cold metal pinched the skin of her wrist.

"Touch me." Brittany ordered as she straddled Santana's stomach.

Only now did Santana see Brittany in all her glory. A phallus rested over her breast and reached her shoulder. If Brittany were to pillage her now, she'd be ready…she's so ready, Brittany was right she craved it.

"I'm locking your other hand then if you're ungrateful." Brittany started to get up but Santana roughly used her free hand to sink two fingers right inside of her.

"Fuck yes," Brittany grinded down hard. Santana just enjoyed the show. "Don't you dare stop."

Santana loved the short time she had been given power but that time soon expired.

"Get your filthy fingers out. I don't want any part of those other people near me." Brittany spat.

Santana withdrew immediately. She didn't know how much longer she'd last. Brittany'd done an excellent job of winding her up.

"Open your mouth,"

Brittany's command was obeyed.

"You're so quick. What about all the other times? All times I knew you were hiding something and didn't say it." Brittany's voice was emotional and raw. It nearly broke and Brittany nearly lost control of herself.

"If only I did. I didn't out of fear. Fear of losing what we have. Fear of losing you."

"Then take this."

The long, thick rubber was thrust into Santana's mouth, almost gagging her. She did her best to put on a show, to make Brittany feel good.

Brittany began to hump Santana at full speed; her muscular thighs bracketed Santana's head. Santana took as much as she could.

But as soon as it started it ended, again.

Santana was on the brink of exploding.

The shaft was removed from her mouth and before she could catch a gulp of air it was inserted forcefully between her legs.

"Fucking shit, what did I do?" Santana screamed. She didn't want to say she resented Brittany's roughness but it came as a surprise; her insides stung.

Brittany didn't miss a beat; she continued to penetrate Santana hard.

"It hurts doesn't it? You'd rather have a knife to your skin. When all this is over tell me you'll still love me."

"Oh fucking god," Santana had tears in her eyes because it hurt so good. She pumped up to meet Brittany's pelvis every time Brittany came down on her.

"You'll still love me won't you?" Brittany shouted her voice cracked fully. She was crying too.

"Yes, yes, yes,…uhhh…I'll…oh fuck, I'll still love you. I love you, I love you."

Brittany sunk in deep causing Santana to lift her hips and tense her butt. It was a whole other feeling; it was out of this world.

Santana couldn't wait for her epic finish, she was so close. A few more minutes and she'd possibly call that the best sex of her life.

She waited; she tried not to push Brittany to finish what she'd started.

Instead she heard heavy crying and Brittany saying "NO, you won't. You'll hate me. You won't love me."

"What are you doing Brittany?" Santana said frustrated, "can't we talk about this after? Just finish fucking me."

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Santana felt disappointed as Brittany removed herself to sit at the edge of their bed.

She wouldn't stop crying.

"What's going on Britt?"

Santana thought it was all fun and games, why was Brittany acting like this? She watched Brittany fling harness and all across the room and cover her face with her hands in shame.

"What am I doing? I don't want this, I'm sorry." Brittany kept repeating.

Santana couldn't make heads or tails of the situation. Her arousal slowly slipped away as she crawled, still cuffed, to her wife on all fours.

"You have to tell me what's wrong, Brittany," She said softly. Her hand lay on Brittany's back beginning to softly stroke.

"Nothing, I shouldn't have done that to you."

Just listening to Brittany's hard voice told Santana it was a lie.

"There's more, I know it."

Brittany broke down again, sobbing till her shoulders shook.

There's nothing she can do so Santana waited it out. Her mind was abuzz for any clues to Brittany's behavior.

"I'm sorry," Brittany was finally able to say, "I promise to tell you everything tomorrow. I promise."

"Okay," Santana lowered her lips to Brittany's shoulders. She moved them upward, one inch at a time till she was kissing under Brittany's ear.

She cupped Brittany's cheek to turn her head towards her. It only made Brittany freeze and grab her hand, guiding it away.

For a moment Santana felt the pain of rejection but it was soon wiped away by Brittany's soft lips pressed against hers.

It was only a short kiss, Santana was disappointed.

Brittany got up and unlocked Santana's wrists, she began kissing the red ring of skin reverently, apologetically.

"Come here," Santana opened her arms for Brittany to settle in. Her crying had died down; all that remained were small whimpers.

They lay like that for a while. Again Santana tried to stroke Brittany's cheek but Brittany opted to hold her hand instead.

Santana wouldn't ask. Anything Brittany didn't want right now was probably connected to the thing she wasn't talking about.

"I know there are things we need to talk about," Santana finally admitted, "but let me make you feel good tonight."

Everything else could wait. Her mission right now was to make her wife okay again.

Santana rolled on top of Brittany and hovered over her face. She placed light kisses on Brittany's neck, avoiding her face since she obviously didn't want to be touched there.

She made a slow path down the valley of Brittany's chest, down her stomach and straight to where she could make Brittany forget about their surfacing problems. She didn't hesitate to delve in and work her wife to a thrashing mess.

It didn't take long to send Brittany over the edge. Watching her made Santana's arousal pool again but she could wait.

She crawled up her wife's body, kissing places she felt the urge to kiss till she reached Brittany's face.

It was much more relaxed. Brittany was breathing hard and looked beautiful just like she did earlier that night.

"You're wrong," Santana whispered against her lips before kissing them fully. Brittany kissed back which was a mini-victory.

"I'll always love you. You have no idea." She kept kissing Brittany hoping each time their lips connected Brittany would understand. "You couldn't do anything to make me stop loving you."

Brittany decided to give in to Santana. She knew her wife would be eating her words the next day but she wanted this moment last, it was perfect. She would remember it on the days she felt alone, when Santana was far from her reach, she would cherish the thought that Santana had loved her once.

* * *

><p>The next day Santana was a mess. She was supposed to be helping Puck inform their team of the plan to kill Rory but she kept getting distracted by Brittany's outburst.<p>

She lost count of how many times she found Puck side-eying her. He'd asked her what was wrong but she told him to jerk off. It's not like she had an answer anyways.

Everyone avoided her, knowing better than to disturb her with a question when she was in a bad mood. On days like this she was as dangerous as scorching flames of fire.

Brittany wasn't fairing much better.

"How's your cheek?" Quinn asked, inspecting the now bluish skin under Brittany's eye.

"It's looked prettier, you owe me big time."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

Quinn hadn't meant to get into a sticky situation and she certainly didn't plan for Brittany to get hurt.

"Next time make sure the guy is actually under the medication before acting," Brittany rolled her eyes. She'd had to save Quinn's ass last night which threw off her sexy hammock plans. She didn't even regret the bruise as much as the missed opportunity; one which she wouldn't get again, probably.

Quinn nodded, "Thanks for coming for me. At least we got the blueprints right?"

"Right," Brittany said her mind far away from the mission.

Tina arrived which was queue for Quinn to begin their briefing.

"We have altogether ten minutes to complete this plan which means everyone needs to be on their toes the whole time. Got it?"

The other three girls nod.

"Brittany will lure Rory outside through the side door of the theater that Sugar will be watching." Quinn continues, "Sugar, you'll be placed on the balcony of one of the apartments opposite the alley."

"I'll be keeping watch and backing Brittany up from the corner of the theater facing the main street. Tina will be ready to drive the car hidden in the alley. I made a copy of the keys last night. We'll take the driver out before Brittany comes, tie him up and stuff him in the car trunk. Brittany, wait for my signal that the coast is clear before bringing him out. Ten minutes top, I repeat."

"Alright," Tina said as she finished jotting down the plan. They all had their own list of things they needed for the kidnap.

"We'll take him to the cellar after that for questioning." Quinn wrapped up "Any questions?"

There was a string of negative murmurs.

"I have to get back to being Jesse St. James object of sexual harassment now, thanks Quinn." Brittany said sarcastically as she got up. He had wanted her to go out with him for lunch during her break.

"Good luck Brittany, and remember we couldn't have done this without you. You're still our best field agent." Quinn gave Brittany an encouraging pat on the back. "Okay, I expect everyone to check in at twenty o'clock sharp tonight."

* * *

><p>"Santana, some new guys just arrived. You're gonna have to brief them." Puck stuck his head in for a second and retracted it before Santana could fire an insult at him.<p>

The plan didn't even require that many people. She just needed one or two guys for back-up since she was doing the main job anyways.

"I'll make it brief," Santana mutters under her breath.

* * *

><p>Santana felt good about herself. She never got tired of seeing her perfect reflection in the mirror, nothing about her looks or attire screamed married. She looked attractive and available.<p>

It's what her wife loved. Every time they went out together they knew they looked like a couple of hot girls. Brittany loved to say it was all about the teasing and never about the pleasing, for everyone else. For them dressing up flirting on dates was an effective way to turn the other one on.

The after sex was always good. That's what Santana was looking forward to once her job for the night was complete.

She brushed her finger across the skin of her forehead, flattening out the ugly wrinkles. She couldn't afford to let them stay permanently. Her mind drifted back to last night for the hundredth time and for the hundredth time she couldn't figure out before-hand what Brittany would tell her that night.

Santana smiled at herself and smoothed down her nicely pressed top one more time before grabbing a thick leather jacket.

Before exiting the house she checked the gun concealed in her boot, making sure it couldn't be seen. She patted her jean pocket to feel for the miniscule bomb hidden there.

Tonight was going to be easy, but most importantly it was going to mark the beginning of the end for her job as assassin.

* * *

><p>She got to the giant theater a half an hour before she was to meet Brittany and Rachel at the entrance. Being early meant being able to find a parking space easily which was always a good thing in LA.<p>

Santana walked past the building flashing 'Street Vagabonds the Musical' in neon red and yellow to the opposite side of the street. She entered a massage parlor and handed in a note at the desk before making her way to the rickety, old-fashion, caged elevator. She walked into room 408.

"Is this really necessary Puckerman?" Santana rolled her eyes at her half naked friend.

"Ah, my favorite voice." He chuckled into the towels under his head, "Just preparing myself for the prize winning shot."

"I don't have all night Puck, just tell me what I want to hear."

"Flanagan is going to have a death stroke with the amount of cleavage your showing, it's all good though, you can just kill him and we'll be done."

"Fucking pig," smacked him over his Mohawk. "Fantasizing over me is disgusting. Now give me the update before I give Miss Wang here a show of my knife up your ass."

"No need to get so defensive," Puck lifts his head and turns over a bit. Santana covers her eyes just in case she sees something that won't let her hold her dinner down. "I'm decent, perv, no need to hide."

"Whatever, you have five minutes."

"Everything is in place Santana; you're always too worried about these things. Don't you ever trust your team?"

"No, I don't trust anybody. But thanks for your poor attempt at putting my mind at ease." Santana turned around and walked out.

"Hey, we're all in this situation and not everyone's got an out like you." She heard Puck shout. This situation was something she really hated and after tonight it would be over.

* * *

><p>Santana made her way down the street a little before crossing to the other side. She strolled easily up to the group of five hanging out in front of the theater.<p>

"Hey," Santana greeted, paying attention to mostly Brittany who was dressed to kill. Santana felt so underdressed in her blouse and skinny jeans.

Everyone else murmured their hello's and followed Rachel inside.

Quinn was kind of walking beside Brittany which annoyed Santana. Did she know nothing about space? Besides, she'd brought some Asian guy with her so why was she clinging to her wife.

"Hey Britt, hold on a sec." Santana stopped Brittany with a touch on her arm. To her greater annoyance Quinn stopped walking too.

"What is it San?" Brittany asked completely missing the angry glaring contest between her wife and Quinn.

Quinn seemed to finally get message and continued walking.

"Ummm, nothing Britt," Santana smiled. She noticed how low Brittany's dress cut and wasn't too pleased everyone got to see what should be reserved for only her. "I thought you might get cold inside, have my jacket."

Without waiting, Santana unfolded the thick jacket on her arm and placed it around Brittany's shoulders. From the corner of her eye she could make out Brittany's smile and the way Brittany looked at her adoringly.

"Thanks honey," Brittany said and gave Santana a quick peck on the cheek. She seemed to be in a totally different place from last night which put Santana's mind at ease.

The show itself was boring Santana to death, although Brittany got excited about practically everything. It was also her bad luck that Quinn sat on her left side.

Quinn seemed equally bored and kept looking around as if the old theater's structure was more interesting than the show. Santana's annoyance lessened slightly knowing Quinn's review of the show wouldn't be much different than hers.

At half-time they all went to get some refreshments. Quinn got a call and soon after apologized to the group for having to split, the Asian guy decided to go with her.

"Can I talk to Brittany for a second?" Santana found Quinn already tugging her wife away from the popcorn machine, why ask if she was going to steal Brittany anyways? Santana waved them off and ordered caramel, extra sweet, just like Brittany always did.

It was a brief exchange, by the time Santana had gotten the bucket of popcorn Brittany was back by her side.

"What did she want?" Santana asked, she didn't approve of Brittany's friendship with Quinn but couldn't really do anything about it since she and Brittany worked together and had known each other from high-school.

"Oh, nothing. She just wanted me to compliment Rory on his acting after." Brittany beamed. It sounded odd for Quinn to say that but Santana didn't question it further.

The call came for everyone to be seated again and Santana moaned at the thought of having to suffer for another hour.

Santana couldn't have been happier that the show was finally over. The ending was oh so dramatic with fake gold being thrown everywhere and Rory singing about how rags to riches dreams come true. She wanted to barf at all the shit.

"Wasn't that amazing?" Brittany leaned into her as they got off their seats and made their way to the front.

"It was extraordinary," Santana didn't even hide her sarcasm.

"Oh, come on, you have to agree Rory is kind of cute."

"Lesbian, remember?" Santana pointed to herself. If anything she found the Rory kid completely spoiled and full of himself. She already guessed they'd get a full display of ego from him when they went backstage.

"I couldn't understand him half the time."

"Yeah," Brittany agreed, "he's gotta work on his diction, I could give him a few pointers since Rachel used to tell me I mumbled all the time."

"Nah, nothing's wrong with you. Rachel just can't hear anything if it's not spoken with flaming passion or in song. And you know she draws the worst conclusions."

Rachel finished talking with the guard. He opened the gate for her and she motioned excitedly for Brittany and Santana to follow.

They were taken to a room with Rory's name on the front.

Rachel knocked on the door twice and followed up by singing 'open up'. Something that vaguely sounded like 'come in' came from the other side of the door.

"Hello Rachel, lovely to see you again." Rory stepped forward and gave her a peck on the cheek. "I actually had something to tell you tonight, fancy you strolling in at this convenient time."

"It's very nice to see you again as well…I have…"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to talk about getting dinner sometime. There is someone that would like to meet you."

Rachel didn't like being cut off but when Rory talked about his person who admired her great Broadway talent she was charmed.

"Well, this uncle of yours sounds very nice and of course I'm always up for meeting people who so actively keep Broadway alive. My manager can tell you my schedule."

As if only now sensing there were other people in the room, Rory looked over Rachel towards Brittany and Santana.

"You brought friends?"

"Oh, right."Rachel remembered, "This is Brittany and this is Santana, they wanted to see you after the show."

"Pleasure," Rory stretched his hands out to shake with the couple. "I hope you liked it."

"You were amazing," Brittany began to fawn all over him. Rory looked absolutely thrilled. He also kept looking at the places on Brittany's body that weren't covered, much to Santana's distaste.

One thing Santana was glad for was the distraction Brittany was making. While he laughed at an imitation of himself Brittany was making, Santana quickly slipped something into Rory's pant pocket.

They stayed for about fifteen minutes before saying goodbye. Santana was finally glad to be out of there.

Santana told Brittany she'd get the car and to wait up front for her. She left not knowing that Brittany had asked Rory to have a smoke with her outside.

* * *

><p><strong>**AN** hear me out okay? The sex scene at the beginning of the story might not have been what you expected. I tried to make it a little different because of the nature of Brittany and Santana's relationship, especially when it comes to sex. They're both very sexual and adventurous. It's not strange if they have a unique sex life, so I wrote something a little 'out there'. Also, if you read carefully inbetween the lines, you'll find that it also served a purpose to the story. I hope nobody was put off by it.**


	8. Chapter 7

I'm so happy to be back from my study break!

**hamonrye - Santana? do you mean Brittany? **

**knowthescore - you'll know early into this chapter. Somethings hurt more than explosives though. **

**boredsenseless2 - thank you for your constructive review.**

**wkgreen - oh, he does. You'll know how evil he is later on.**

**winkaneye1 - thanks! I'm trying to update regularly now.**

**nayalove - you got it! Stick around to see if their feelings change with the circumstances.**

**Guest - Trying to keep as original as possible!**

**Athena Sampaio - I don't plan on stopping. Thanks for you're kind words.**

Enjoy the story!

* * *

><p>Chapter 7<p>

Yet again she ran the events over in her mind. It happened with great speed she wasn't sure if it happened at all.

"You aren't making sense Lopez," beside her, Puck, weeded through the strip of a bush beginning to lengthen atop his head. His patience waned thin.

"Maybe someone else saw it better, I don't know what happened."

Puck rolled his eyes. Santana was never like this, like she'd just encountered a ghost and could no longer utilize words to create meaning.

"You were right there. Try harder." He droned dryly.

She closed her eyes and replayed the fifteen minutes following her exit from the theater.

_I went to get the car, I told Bri… my friend who came with me that I'd only be a minute. Instead of walking down the right street, turning the corner and doing as I'd said, I crossed the street unnoticed and walked back to the other side and positioned myself at the corner of the alley way. _

_He wasn't supposed to be there. _

_You were meant to shoot him when he came out the front door to meet the press. _

_But there he was in plain sight having a smoke with…with a girl…she…she was …umm_

"Blond", Pucks voice broke through her thoughts. "You didn't see her face, she was just blond. Probably his girlfriend, now tell me the rest."

_No, not his girlfriend. It can't be. I had my gun ready but before I could shoot they were running. Someone alerted them and they made a dash around the back of the theater. I had one window to shoot and I did. The girl took the bullet almost like she'd known it was coming and was trying to spare him. _

"What I don't understand is why you didn't let the bomb off. That was our plan B."

Santana said nothing. How could she explain that she didn't want to blow up the bad guy because of someone she thought she knew?

"You saw her face then didn't you?" Puck had drawn out the whole sequence of events in strangled lines and red circles.

For a while longer Santana said nothing. She stared at the uninteresting wooden counter of the bar. She couldn't go on with the story. She didn't want to remember what she saw after that.

"At least tell me if you hit her in a vital place. Maybe we can find her in a hospital around here, ask her some questions." Puck put his pen and notepad into his coat pocket with a snap.

"No, I'm going home."

* * *

><p>Santana shivered in the cold all the way back to her car. While she was in a state of shock over the whole operation gone wrong, Brittany had sent her a message saying Quinn would pick her up. She would sleepover at Quinn's tonight because Quinn needed some advice about the bakery. Lastly, she promised they'd reschedule their date.<p>

Then Santana was engulfed in silence.

Once more she remembered _her _standing in the alley. Santana had a perfect shot of Rory Flanagan but she couldn't shoot. She turned into a statue.

Her final attempt was lame. They were rounding the back and she had no way of killing either of them. The bullet she fired had caught the long leather sleeve of a jacket she was sure should have been over her shoulders.

She'd given that jacket to Brittany. Brittany with long blond hair.

Santana drove home slowly to a dark empty house, to a cold, Brittany-less bed. She shut her eyes and vowed to forget tonight ever happened. Tomorrow she'd see Brittany at the bakery, apologize for not getting the car faster, and take her somewhere nice for their make-up date.

She would erase the blond hair, the jacket, and most importantly the split second of eye contact before boy and blond had barreled out of sight and out of reach.

* * *

><p>The next day greeted her with several messages titled URGENT by Puck with excessive alarm marks. Each taunted her with a silent blare.<p>

She was not ready for this day.

Santana got herself ready in her usual fashion. She didn't miss how quiet the house was. Usually there would be singing from the bathroom, the kitchen, the next room with the second clothes closet, anywhere with Brittany.

The only way to hear that voice again was at a bakery a few blocks down.

Santana hurried.

* * *

><p>Brittany it seemed had also forgotten about the night before.<p>

Santana walked into the cozy, little, bread house to find her wife sitting directly in the splash of morning light coming through the colored glass window. The seat opposite to Brittany was empty but a cup of smoking coffee sat on the table for somebody.

"Good morning," Brittany got up but Santana pushed her straight back to her sitting position. Brittany smiled beautifully. If there were a contest for 'best smile', Brittany would win.

There was only one thing on Santana Lopez's mind at the moment, and that was to kiss her wife. All of last night had gone by with her yearning for Brittany's touch, her smooth skin, her warm body, her gentle breathing, her soft hair.

"I'm going to kiss you," Santana told Brittany, like she needed permission to kiss her beloved.

"Sit first," Santana looked towards the chair opposite of Brittany reluctantly.

"No, here." Brittany guided Santana's thighs to relax on top of hers. "Better?"

"Much," Santana managed. Brittany's presence was getting to her. Sometimes she wondered how she ever made it through the day without being near her wife.

"Now, where were we," Brittany whispered. Santana took that as her cue.

* * *

><p>Brittany always felt good. Her body, her lips, her hands, her hair, it was so easy to get lost in the sensations of a her mouth, pressuring , sucking, her tongue caressing deep, her hands traveling from back to thigh to breast. Nothing mattered when all these feelings existed – not even oxygen, or gravity, or the deadly UV rays – nothing.<p>

"You guys can cut it out now, some mothers are afraid to bring their children in for breakfast because you two are pushing 'pg13'."

And of course Quinn was there to remind them they did live in a world with oxygen, gravity, UV rays, and children with their republican mothers.

Brittany gave her one final lingering kiss before pointing out her coffee was probably lukewarm.

Santana asked Brittany how Quinn was doing, even though Quinn was available to answer all of Santana's questions.

Brittany hadn't understood at first why the two didn't seem to get along. But later she learned that they couldn't get along without the banter, the teasing, the offensive words, the annoyed faces – that as the way they got along.

"Come on Q, you're all up in my business. Talk about eavesdropping on your customers, I should write a review about it and have it published in some magazine."

"Oh, Santana. You don't even pay for your coffee and that's the cheapest thing on the menu. You're one to talk."

"I agree with the cheap part. Brittany and I should move our breakfasts to Starbucks for 'quality' coffee and blueberry muffins."

"Awww, but then you wouldn't be able to perv on that girl….what's her name….Annabelle? the one that jogs every morning in practically nothing but her birthday suit and stops by for a yogurt smoothie."

"Wait, you like her?" Brittany joins Quinn with her playful voice. "I thought you only liked blonds, not red heads."

"What! Now this is not fair. Brittany gets off the hook whenever she compliments a guy in a nice suit but even if I take a tiny peek at a half naked woman begging to be seen I get teased?"

"When will you ever learn Santana?" Quinn shakes her head and refills Santana's outstretched cup, "the world is never on your side."

She doesn't know what's worse. That what Quinn said is true or that Brittany laughs as if she agrees too.

* * *

><p>Pucks annoying calls have finally gotten the better of her. She says goodbye to Brittany and Quinn, giving the former a kiss on the cheek before hurrying out of the bakery.<p>

"Picking up the phone now?" He's past the point of being annoyed, he just sounds defeated like he gave up on Santana ever answering his calls.

"Whatever, be glad I haven't changed my number. I was busy with 'real' important things." Brittany is and always will be more important to her than any job. She was glad she and Brittany were okay.

"I won't be mad if you tell me all the details Lopez, I could use a good wank right now."

Santana almost puked her coffee and blueberry muffins all over her shoes and the sidewalk. "You have ten seconds to tell me why seven urgent messages from you are in my message box. Go."

"Screw you Lopez, the boss is personally overseeing the Irish case and you're to come in and get your instructions. That's an order."

Santana sighed knowing there was no way for her to back out of it. "Is that what they're calling it? The Irish case? How unoriginal."

"You have ten minutes to be here or the boss may be sending you back from where you came from, which I hope he does. You are nothing but a pain in the ass."

"You would know how that feels; did Hummel give it to you last night?"

"I hate you Santana Lopez."

"I hate you too."

Santana hung up the phone with a smirk of satisfaction. She'd totally won that one.

* * *

><p>In and out. Santana planned to escape the building right after receiving her instructions. She had a lunch date with Brittany after all.<p>

Santana was lead to a glass cube, tinted so that no eyes could see in.

Puck was waiting for her. He threw her a dirty look.

"Santana, this is Shuester, our boss. Now bow slightly." Puck whispered in her ear.

Santana did so even if she felt it unnecessary. What age did they live in?

In a louder voice, Puck spoke to the boss. "This is Santana Lopez. Our best field agent responsible for closing the books on many famous names."

The boss or Shuester looked Santana up and down. Quite opposite of what Santana had expected, he was not menacing at all.

"Good day Santana, please sit." Santana took a chair beside him at the round table, "This is a tough business, you agree?"

"Yes," Santana replied firmly. She could feel his hand move up and down her thigh. He'd placed it on her as she seated herself.

"I am the master of all things. I know everything. Do you understand Santana?"

Again she replied with a "yes." His hand was squeezing now and Santana shifted uncomfortably. Whatever menace he lacked was made up abundantly by his creepiness.

"I'm going to give you a chance Santana. There's somebody you need to take care of before you take care of your real target, you know who I'm talking about, correct?"

Santana gulped, not because Shuester had found a small gap between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her pants. "Yes."

"Good, you have till sundown to get them out of the way of our operations or we make them our target. You can leave now."

She shivered. The hair on her arms stood up. She didn't believe her ears but she didn't dare ask.

She was glad to be away from the disgusting man she worked for but she wasn't looking forward to her lunch with Brittany anymore.

* * *

><p>Just like this morning, Santana found Brittany waiting for her. But she wasn't smiling. She seemed to mirror Santana's mood.<p>

"Hey, how has your day been? You don't look so good." Brittany greeted her. Santana leaned over the table for a kiss but was only given a peck on the cheek. Brittany half smiled apologetically.

"I've had better days." Santana mumbled, then not knowing what to do, reached over for the menu. Both of them were abnormally silent, looking over the menu as if not willing for the explosion to happen yet.

From over the top of the laminated card Brittany searched Santana's face. Was she doing it willingly? Did she really mean nothing to Santana? After all, Santana had replied with a firm yes when she was instructed to kill Brittany.

Santana caught her eyes and for a minute they stared at each other, asking silent questions neither could answer.

A young waiter introduced himself and asked for their order. Only then did Santana and Brittany break eye contact.

Santana smiled at the pretty, oblivious, girl in a white shirt, black miniskirt and tie. "I'll have the seafood salad and a side of garlic bread and fried onions."

The girl turned to Brittany but found an empty chair.

Santana hadn't been clueless, she'd seen Brittany leave but she was in the middle of ordering and couldn't think fast enough to stop her.

"She went to the bathroom, she'll be right back." Santana assured the waitress. The girl smiled politely; almost bashful and said she'd get Santana's order first.

Brittany was gone only a few minutes. Santana immediately got up from her chair with the intention of following her. But there on Brittany's chair was a brown leather jacket, and everything came back to her, the golden hair, the footsteps running, and the shot.

Santana rushed forward and pulled the left sleeve into the sunlight. There it was, a hole, unmistakably burned through the leather. A new hole burned its way into Santana's heart as she picked up her feet and dashed out the door.

* * *

><p>And this is why she always wears glasses in the great outdoors, the city counts, anywhere sunlight is counts.<p>

She's blinded before she's belting for someone to stop. In the nick of time and thanks to her trained reflexes, she's out of harm's way.

"Brittany," she shouts in futile. Black bike and rider have become a speck in the New York traffic.

* * *

><p>She should be doing something, anything but getting wasted in this hole of a bar. Santana came straight away knowing it'd be the first one open for customers.<p>

She has time, till sundown. According to her watch, another three to four hours, maybe five if the sun is on her side. Quinn's voice rings loud through her thick migraine _when will you ever learn? The world is never on your side._

In the middle of this slipping in and out of consciousness, wishing her life was the dream and her dreams were real, she hopes no one finds her in this state. Not even Brittany. That damned name.

The bartender looks at her strangely as she wakes up and orders another strong drink. She doesn't know she's saying everything she's thinking till the graying man behind the bar asks if he should call Santana's wife to pick him up.

There aren't many people this early and the alcohol is doing its job in her blood. She feels bold, her life is a mess anyways and these are strangers, people who won't judge or even if they do – it doesn't affect her.

"Br..bitch. She lied. My whole life is a lie. Do you know how that feels? The way it feels to have your whole billion dollar empire disappear before your eyes because you didn't know you built it on quick sand. You understand that right? No? What if you woke up no longer recognizing anything? It's like dying in a way, you don't know if you're dead or alive or hanging by a thread somewhere in between. And you don't feel like anything. Well that's how I feel; I'd rather be stabbed by a knife."

A few men were trying to calm Santana down. Through her ranting and windmilling of her arms she hadn't noticed Brittany walk into the bar.

She kind of did see her now. Like a ghost coming through the door of the tunnel leading to heaven or hell. Everything was too bright.

Just as her eyes focused a flash of pain whipped her cheek. The men let her go to grip the offended jaw.

"I was going to tell you everything."

Someone was crying in front of her but Santana couldn't see the difference between the roof and the floor. She felt like she was spinning.

"Well, it's too late for that now huh? Milk me for all I'm worth? And now you tell me? I never thought you'd be unfaithful." Santana taunted the voice as she steadied herself against a table.

"Santana Lopez, you are the most stupid person I know…I don't know why I married you but I never regretted it. If you think I was unfaithful, look in the mirror next time you can stand up straight. Oh, and you'll want this back I heard everything."

Something was pressed into her hand. And then she was gone. Maybe Brittany walked away or maybe Santana blacked out before she got to see the painful vision.

* * *

><p>"Do you know what the fucking time is?" Santana startled at the sound of her own voice. She felt in desperate need of water and perhaps a pill to help with her head.<p>

"I should be asking you that question." Puck said through the phone.

"This is really not a good time,"

"Are you serious right now?"

"Why are you calling me Puck!" Santana shouted, losing all her patience.

"Because it's dark outside my window and you haven't contacted anybody."

"What does….oh shit."

Santana scrambled as best she could over her mountain of pillows and sheets to place upright her fallen alarm clock.

"It's seven." She said bluntly now remembering with much pain everything that should have happened while the sun still shone.

"The boss isn't happy. He already knows you haven't got the girl."

Santana closed her eyes so tight she saw stars, and then opened them again. She was thinking hard but that was multiplying the pain in her brain and in her chest.

"I can't believe you couldn't get her Santana. You're our best. What's gotten into you?" Puck said frustrated and disappointed.

"You're not helping." Santana finally said. "I'll call you back tomorrow ok? I'm not feeling well."

"Don't," Puck was agitated with her behavior and the way she couldn't see the seriousness of the situation. "Grab a pen."

"Don't need one, just say what you need to say."

"Fine. As of tomorrow you're job is to hunt and kill that girl. She's more than an obstruction now; she's a hazard to our operations. If you don't kill her in two days you're dead."

Santana didn't have a chance to say anything before Puck was gone.

* * *

><p>First things first, water and pills.<p>

Once Santana had a clearer conscious and a functioning mind she laid down all the facts.

Brittany was somebody Santana didn't know. Brittany was doing something against her organization. Brittany was putting Santana's life in danger. Brittany was her target. Brittany was her responsibility to kill. Brittany lied to her. Brittany didn't deserve to walk away like nothing ever happened. Brittany had told her something. Brittany was gone but she was the only thing in Santana's life right now.

Santana decided she hated Brittany. Brittany had ruined their life no matter how fake.

And what were her parting words? _Look in the mirror._ Santana had already done that in her drunken state and saw nothing but a mad woman.

_Look in the mirror._ Santana wouldn't miss it whatever it was now that she was in the zone.

She pushed her hips off the kitchen counter and threw her cup in the sink. Her eyes shifted to a yellow smiley post-it that only Brittany used

_I'm staying with Quinn. Don't try to contact me or harm me. It's for your own good. _

The note was written in bright red, a color Brittany never used. Blood red.

Santana re-entered her room and made a bee-line for her dresser mirror. There was nothing out of the ordinary. No further message from Brittany. No shocking revelation.

There was nothing except for a lone ring laying smack in the middle of the desk.

Sometime when she was sleeping, Brittany was in her house. She'd left the note and then the ring.

Santana never thought she'd feel this hurt. It tore her heart to shreds.

For her it was the beginning of the end.

She had only one desire; to kill Brittany and then to die herself.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 1: Can't wait to read you're comments! How good do you think Santana will be against Brittany?**

**A/N2: I apologize for the long wait. During the semester I don't pay much attention to studying but during exam weeks I put everything into preparing for the tests so I have no spare time. Thanks for bearing with me!**


	9. Chapter 8

**I'm so happy to get this one out! I want to remind my readers that although the last chapter was angsty, this story is more humorous and fluffy/badass/wicked/awesome!Brittana**

**Have no fear. **

**crystalynn2006 - The more you hate the more you love. San and Britt haven't been married for years for nothing. I think you'll be happy with this chapters ending and direction the story will take.**

**boredsenseless2 - Yes, I wrote more in Santana's point of view because I think it's more interesting. Santana freaks the moment things turn out different than what she's used to so, you know, she's more dramatic. Britt is more level headed, and not one to go crazy but that doesn't mean she doesn't have feelings. She copes with it better. Remember, Brittany saw Santana that night she was with Rory, Santana shot her. **

**knowthescore - Haha, you're good. There's a breaking point though and I think you'll enjoy the action. Bullets will fly.**

**codyismydog - Shit is most certainly going down!**

**M206 - I'm all for happy endings so, no worries there.**

**nayalove - Nope, not cheating but they lied to each other.**

**Nicole - Well, wait no longer! I think you'll like this chapter**

**HeyaAddict - I am looking forward to the make up sex, haha! No, actually I'm scared it won't live up to peoples expectations.**

**Guest - Yep, they both know the other is an assassin. Brittany is not working for the government though, her team interpreted the encrypted message differently than Santana's team. Brittany is trying to find out if Rory is the real bad guy while Santana got a bill to kill. **

**Guest - Killing someone is a big decision. Killing someone close to you is even harder, it won't be easy for San. **

**And now, on with the story. Thanks for the awesome feedback!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 8<p>

"Are you alright Santana?" It's such a stupid question Santana doesn't bother to answer.

"Let's just get on with the planning okay Puck?" Santana replies. In front of her lays a huge stack of data she spent all night digging up. It's not like she can sleep anyway with Brittany gone. But she is always in Santana's head, and in her heart.

Soon she tells herself, one day she'll forget. She has to try, because she's already lost her.

"You're not even on this case Santana; you're supposed to be hunting down blond bodyguard."

"Well you're welcome, the team wouldn't be any closer to killing Flanagan if I didn't drop all this shit off." Santana slams her hands on the desk in her move to get up. "Have a good day Puck."

Santana storms out and heads straight home.

* * *

><p>Brittany wakes up in a dark room. It takes her a while to remember but when she does, she frowns. She's safe and she's glad for that but a part of her would rather confront Santana about the lies that they've told each other, and the people they pretended to be.<p>

Even a knife at her throat or a gun to her head is less scary then what she feels now. Uncertainty.

Brittany opens the blinds and smiles at the body beside her. Last night she was a wreck and Quinn did her best to console her. She must have fallen asleep with Brittany in her arms.

As she gets dressed, Brittany wonders who is comforting Santana.

Brittany quickly moves on from that thought, Santana is strong, she will get through everything especially this. She is the weak one. She cried so much the night she gave back her marriage ring. She just couldn't keep it.

Keeping it would remind Brittany of the lies she and Santana told each other for years.

There was a time Brittany knew Santana loved her, now she doesn't know. Brittany screwed it up somewhere all though she's not sure how. But the truth was bound to come out anyways right? Brittany just didn't expect there to be two truths.

With a sigh, Brittany wakes Quinn up and they both get ready to go into the office.

* * *

><p>The rest of the girls are already busy at their computers when Quinn and Brittany arrive. Sugar updates them on the progress.<p>

"There are two things you girls need to know." She spins in her chair. They all have to wear the same blazer, dress shirt and slacks uniform but Sugar always adds her own touch. Today it's giant, pink sunglasses.

Once Brittany's gotten her focus back from those sunglasses she nods her head.

"One," Sugar continue, "Rory Flanagan has fled the country. Thanks to Brittany's computer work, we know exactly where he's going and it's not Ireland."

Quinn and Brittany wait for the punch line while Tina pops bubble gum impatiently. Her face reads that she could have finished bringing everyone up to speed two decades ago.

"He's going to Qatar."

"For the oil," Brittany's mind connects the dots. "But why? He's not the one is he?"

"He could be," Quinn says, "Or St. James could be using him as a messenger boy. Either way, we've got to get the truth out of him."

"We're leaving in fifteen minutes, the helicopter is being checked." Tina opens a Japanese comic book and continues to pop her gum.

"Great, and what's the second thing?" Brittany asks.

"The super hot girl who was trying to kill you is in the building."

"What!" Both Brittany and Quinn shout.

As if on cue, the office phone rings.

Tina gets it, but after only half listening she holds the phone out to Brittany, "it's for you."

* * *

><p>Santana didn't want to admit it to herself but she was dreading her job. She must have checked her arsenal ten times, and she still didn't feel ready. But she knew she had to do it. Just in and out.<p>

_Don't think it's her you're killing. It's just someone._

_Someone you used to love, and have the best sex with, and eat with, and sleep with, and laugh with, and take out to movies, and show off to the world and…_

_But she's not that person anymore. You don't know this new person._

Her brain is all screwed up and Santana knows there is only one way to do this. Soldier mode. Follow your orders, don't make it personal.

She snaps her guns into places on her body, stuffs her feet in combat boots and drives to Brittany's work place.

* * *

><p>"There she is," Sugar points out to security camera feed on her wide screen, "she's in the elevator on the tenth floor."<p>

Brittany peers at the screen, Santana is looking right back at her, smiling.

"How are you doing baby?" Santana's sugar coated words infuriate Brittany. Once upon a time Santana said those words to her with love, now it's all a game.

"Never been better hot stuff, what brings you here?" Brittany replies, she turns to look at Sugar and Tina who have their jaws on the floor.

Quinn is rushing for them to get ready and makes a clear signal for Brittany to end the conversation. To Tina and Sugar she says she'll explain later.

"Oh, can't I visit you at work sometimes? Or is there something you're hiding there that I shouldn't know about." Santana looks at the numbers climbing higher and higher.

"Don't act like you're not here to kill me. I told you to stay away." Brittany wished Santana would have followed her advice, now she was going to have to hurt Santana.

"Well, you told me lots of things. I just want to find out which ones were lies. How did you know I was coming for you?" Santana genuinely wants to know.

"You're whole operations is bugged, I have access to all of it. I heard you." Brittany's voice hardens with anger. Santana had said yes, yes, and yes when given orders to kill Brittany as if Santana were waiting all these seven years to finally be rid of her.

"You're lying Brittany," Santana's voice shakes, she desperately wishes Brittany hadn't heard her. "Again. You're a great liar." The last part Santana tries to sound cocky, to throw Brittany off her trail.

"I'm hanging up now Santana; I've got work to do."

"And so do I, see you in a few baby."

"Stop calling me that." Brittany is irritated.

The girls are calling her to hurry to the window.

"At least now I know that part of our relationship was fake. Now you're just giving me an incentive to kill you."

"I'll be gone before you get here. And take this as my last warning. Come near me and I'll be forced to kill you."

Santana chuckles, "As if you weren't planning to kill me all along. Don't worry, I've got this building covered, you're not going anywhere."

"Whatever, I'll see you around." Brittany hangs up but lingers at the screen for a minute longer staring at the face of her ex-wife.

Brittany turns off the screen when she can't stand to look at her anymore.

Quinn is helping Brittany strap on her deploying device onto her back, and checking one last time that it's on right.

The girls flip open the huge glass window, watching it rise like a curtain. It's then that the office door bursts open.

"Time to go girls," Brittany shouts. They all jump but Brittany jumps last as she watches Santana raise her gun. Brittany remains stoned face, daring Santana to shoot.

She only gives her a split second though before she's out the window and propelling forward. Motor wings keep her up.

In the empty window Santana pockets her gun and watches the team of four fly over New York City like a flock of superb birds.

Brittany waves to Santana, watching the girl clench her fist through her aerials before speeding up to keep group formation.

* * *

><p>She's gone. Santana mutters under her breath.<p>

She can imagine Brittany laughing with Quinn about her inability to shoot her. The hesitation is something Santana will never understand.

Santana trained for this, to put bullets through people. She had a clear split second shot but her fingers didn't pull the trigger.

It could have been so easy. Now she has nowhere left to go but back to her team for help tracking Brittany down, as if they don't already have a ticking bomb to deal with.

And so much for the explosives she planted in each elevator, now she'll have to go collect them.

Santana kicks a chair against the wall and plops herself into another one. An idea comes to her as she begins booting all of the computers.

Their whole headquarters is in her hands and she has time.

The screens flicker to life in seconds. That's as far as she can go though. The computer asks for a hand and pupil scan.

Santana tries knowing already that it won't work, but she's still frustrated when her eyes and hand don't match up. The computer goes into a frenzy of red and yellow, _Alert: Unknown identification – access denied,_ and then shuts down on its own.

All her attempts with the other computers end the same way. Damn Brittany and her computer skills. If only Santana can get her into a fair no weapons fight, she'd be superior.

With a sigh, Santana heads back to her team's meeting place.

* * *

><p>Quinn, Sugar, Tina, and Brittany sit nonchalantly in the supersonic company jet on course for Qatar. They sip ginger ale and it feels like life is great.<p>

Who wouldn't love their job? They're badass, they get the bad guys with class and in style, and they are like the real Charlie's Angels. And on their down time they enjoy parties and pleasures.

Sure it was hard to get here but once you've made it, you've made it. You're elite for life. Better then a government agent, better than a soldier, better then the fucking FBI.

No one in their sane mind would want to leave, to become a helpless civilian.

But Brittany is rethinking that point. She would never admit it to her friends because they wouldn't understand, but she would give it all up to be a helpless civilian if she got to have the life she once shared with Santana.

"Are you thinking of making something awesomer than the nuclear bomb?" Sugar breaks her thoughts. She then slurps the rest of her drink as loud as possible through her straw. "Sorry, I was an orphan. No parents to teach me manners."

Usually Brittany laughs at Sugars lame excuses to break social norms and folkways, doing whatever she wants. This time she's really not in the mood.

"Something's definitely crawled up her ass and died this time." Tina says mainly to herself as she nods in agreement.

"Are you thinking of the hot girl? It's super cool you're sleeping with her and now she's trying to blow you up."

"Sugar, can you just find the fashion channel and critique everyone on the catwalk? Thanks." Quinn is short tempered today as well. She knows that this conversation is not helping Brittany to focus on their mission.

"Not until Brittany tells us how long she's been going out with hot girl."

"Hot girl, has a name and its Santana Lopez. Funny, Brittany shares her last name. Are you two married or something?" Tina sits legs apart and hands folded under her chin. Brittany knows what she's doing; she's trying to glare the truth out of her like everyone else they bring in for questioning.

Tina has serious ninja mind controlling skills. The small slit of her eyes makes her even scarier in Brittany's opinion because you can't see shit that's going on behind those black marbles. You can hardly see her eyes at all.

"The something part is right, she's just an underground mission gone wrong." Brittany shrugs her shoulder like it's no big deal.

"Holy Shit! Talk about being a super agent. You were doing an underground, _underground _mission. I can't even wrap my head around that." Sugar walks away clearly thinking Brittany is superwoman.

"Whatever," Tina relaxes back into the couch, propping her feet up and continuing her three-hundredth level of angry birds.

"You gonna be ok?" Quinn asks when the others are preoccupied. If Quinn is honest, she's just as surprised about Santana as Brittany is. Only then did she realize how fucked up their situation is going to be. And now that Santana is officially chasing Brittany, not in a good way, she's worried Brittany won't be able to handle it.

Super Elite or not, Quinn knows Brittany is one of those girls with a heart, who hurts easily no matter what tough front she puts on. She knows Santana's hurt Brittany deep without having to use any weapon.

"What do you mean," Brittany smirks at Quinn's concerned question. If Santana wants to play cat and mouse, then so be it. Except it's like tiger and unicorn, however that works.

"I'm ready to blow stuff up."

* * *

><p>"Don't even start," Santana holds her hand up to Puck as she walks in the room full of men hunched over an i-pad.<p>

"She's gone and I don't know where. Now would be a nice time for all you idiots to start using your brains."

With that Santana steals the ipad from them. She doesn't even know what she's searching for but she has to get busy before her mind wanders back to Brittany looking like batwoman on a mission to save the world.

"Santana, I got Flanagan's location!" Puck shouts. Everyone turns their attention to Puck. "One of our agents in Qatar saw him arrive there. He needs back-up."

"I'm going," Santana doesn't even wait for orders. Screw Will Shuester, if she fails she fails, she has nothing to live for anymore.

From now on she decides to do things on her terms. "I want Sam and Kurt to come with me. Puck, you be my touch-base. Come on guys."

No one dares question her. When Santana wants something she gets it.

Santana hopes the men know what they're supposed to do because she's marching forwards without looking back.

* * *

><p>"I've got the gear," Brittany fixes the ten kilo pack on her shoulder full of gun parts.<p>

Tina has the sand jeep being readied. Sugar's got the binoculars and Quinn has the plan.

Rory Flanagan checked into the Four Seasons an hour ago. Half an hour later a group of giggling tourist girls checked in.

"He's going to the oil wells this afternoon; the dunes are wide open so we shouldn't have problems monitoring him. Sugar will go down to the bar in a few minutes and try to get the bug in his coat."

"I hope he's innocent." Brittany says of handedly. "I kind of like him."

"We'll know if by tonight. But if by chance we're wrong about the connection between Flanagan and St. James and it turns out he's the one we have to kill, then there will be no mercy."

The girls nod solemnly.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Blaine Anderson right?" Santana shakes his hand followed by Sam and Kurt.<p>

"I'm your man," Blaine opens the car door for them. Santana sits in the front with Blaine.

"I'll take you to the Four Seasons, that's where Flanagan is staying."

"You got us rooms?" Santana asks. She's expecting it of course, their agency isn't cheap.

Blaine just smiles and looks at the road.

They don't make much fanfare checking in even though they are the second American group of tourist today. This news by the front desk interests Santana greatly, she wonders if perhaps the other group is the Charlie's Angels.

Santana throws her things in her room, not bothering to unpack because they'll probably be gone before midnight.

Blaine filled them in on what he thinks Rory Flanagan is doing here. Tonight there will be a charity ball hosted by the oil tycoons at the Four Seasons. Somehow Rory is involved.

They're all in the boy's room sitting in different positions of comfort, except for Santana who walks back and forth deep in thought. Sam sits on a padded wicker chair while Kurt and Blaine sit on one bed.

"Well, we aren't going to sit around doing nothing till this evening. I want someone on Flanagan."

"I'll do it, Sam volunteers eager for something to do.

"Great and I'm going to check out the chicks by the pool."

Santana cocks her eyebrows when all the guys look at her funny.

"What? There's a gang of American girls here and I want to know they're here for only the sun and not for Rory Flanagan."

"Oh," The boys hide their blushing faces.

"Perverts"

* * *

><p>Sugar spots Rory by the bar in a polo shirt and loose fitting shorts. She winks at the other three bikini clad girls basking under the spreading palm trees.<p>

Sugar adjusts her pink triangular top one more time as she approaches Rory. She really hopes he appreciates her fresh off Paris week swimwear.

It's at that moment that Santana and Sam come down the spiral stairs to the large pool area. They definitely don't miss the action that is about to take place with their target.

Santana checks that her gun is ready even though she knows she won't be using it yet. They all agreed to be sure of no mistakes this time before they pulled out their guns.

"Can a girl get a drink around here?" Sugar leans on the bar right next to Rory. She makes sure to press her boobs together making them look bigger than they are.

"Hello there," Rory says to Sugar's chest before his eyes move up to her face. "What would you like to drink?"

"I don't know something middle-eastern. Do they grow Pineapples here?"

"You're funny," Rory leans his body in, clearly interested in this airheaded girl. "Where are you from?"

"The USA of course," Rory receives a slap on the shoulder.

"Well here, they have a specialty. Have you tried dates?"

"Smooth pick-up line. Are you asking me to tonight's dinner?" Sugar bats her eyelashes.

"I'm asking you if you've had this drink." Rory hands her the alcoholic smoothie he'd ordered.

Sugar sips it dramatically.

"That's just overdoing it now."Santana rolls her eyes from behind her newspaper. She and Sam grabbed a table close to the bar but with full view of the pool. "She could rival Rachel Berry."

"You mean the Broadway star?" Sam asks his interest peaked.

"Yes, I mean the one and only Rachel Berry who I have the misfortune of knowing."

Sam doesn't say anything after that as he turns his attention back to the flirting at the bar.

"I like it," Sugar winks up at Rory as she swirls her tongue around the straw. It seems to excite the young man.

"Well I like you,"

* * *

><p>"Bitches, you're all welcome." Sugar sits back down on her chair, putting her sunglasses on. She throws a small wave to Rory who waves back.<p>

Brittany turns over holding her bikini to her chest. She was enjoying the quiet of not having Sugar around for a whole ten minutes.

"What, did you get him to agree to a foursome? I doubt that was hard."

Quinn snorts, Tina rolls her eyes and Sugar just takes it as a compliment.

"I can ask him later. But we're all on the guest list for tonight's ball. And, he just got Sugar'd."

"I hope that means you successfully bugged him and didn't like put the thing in his pants."

"Wow Tina being crude, why I never."

Brittany and Tina share a glare before they both crack up. Brittany does a great Cockney accent.

"Of course," Sugar says inching closer and motioning the girls to huddle in like they're sharing a secret. "I stuck it in his neck when I almost kissed him. I didn't though; it's all about the teasing and never about the pleasing."

"Good job Sugar," Quinn says as the girls all high-five.

* * *

><p>"Earth to Santana," Sam waves a hand in front of her eyes, something she doesn't appreciate because Brittany was just showing off a whole side boob.<p>

"What did you say?" Santana turns her attention back to Sam.

"I said, one of those blond girls looks like the one you're after right?"

"Let me check again," Santana holds her hand out. "Uh, binoculars?"

Sam hands them over.

Santana puts them to her eyes and smirks, admiring the close up view. She's long forgotten that she's supposed to kill Brittany, she actually feels guilty for even thinking that she could.

Who could kill a goddess? Sprawled out under the sun and slightly tanned, Brittany makes her so hot, she could jump in the pool right now.

"So which one is it?" Sam disturbs her again. Seriously, she just wants him to go away and let her spend the afternoon sightseeing. The other girls aren't hard to look at either but she's got eyes for only one of them.

"Sam, where's Flanagan at now? You're supposed to be watching him, remember?" Santana finds an excuse to get rid of him.

"I think he went back inside," Sam gets up and stretches taking one last glance at the group of tourist girls. "I'll update you."

Perfect. Santana thinks as she orders a _Kingfisher_ beer and leans back to enjoy her afternoon.

* * *

><p><strong>So, Santana doesn't have the heart to kill Brittany. And now she's not following orders so she doesn't have to yay!<strong>

**Don't get too happy though, shit is still about to go down. **

**There wasn't so much action in this chapter but I put a lot of comedy. Review please?**


	10. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the delay, I was sick. I just finished writing this and haven't checked for mistakes so those are on me. It's two am so I'm super tired, but I wanted to get this out for you guys. **

**Enjoy**

* * *

><p>Chapter 9<p>

To say she's sexually frustrated is an understatement.

Santana slams her door shut, growling and throwing pillows like a mad woman. This is just typical of her, letting Brittany overtake her mind and now her body.

Brittany not once let on that maybe she knew Santana was watching. But she played it up like she was putting on a show for someone.

If Brittany wanted Santana to be jealous then it had worked marvelously.

Seriously, she didn't have to hold hands with Sugar while jumping in the pool. And what was up with helping Quinn dry her back?

The green eyed monster lived and breathed in Santana now.

* * *

><p>"What!"<p>

This is really not a good time for her to be disturbed. For gods sake she was in the middle of relieving herself.

"It's Sam,"

Santana sits up more frustrated than ever.

"This better be good," Santana opens the door and crosses her arms.

"Yeah, just that uhh Flanagan got into a car just now and we should probably follow him."

"Do you think I'm dumb?" Santana is stupefied. "Of course we have to follow him!"

Forgetting her previous activities and no longer being bothered, Santana runs to get her guns ready.

* * *

><p>"So this is the best crap you could find?"<p>

Sam looks to Kurt who looks to Blaine. They all figured Rory Flanagan was headed to the dunes and that a city car would definitely not do.

"I'm sorry, this was me thinking fast!" Blaine apologizes for their current travel options.

"How do you even ride these things," And by 'these things' Santana meant Camels.

"Kind of like a horse I think." Blaine tests the camel's rump with his stick; it begins walking at a slow pace.

"You think?"

This day was going great until camels.

"If we're ever going to catch up we'd better get going," Sam is the voice of reason. "Like it or not this is our best option right now."

Without another word he gets his camel moving.

"Talk about sticking out like a sore thumb, we're just begging to be shot at." Santana grumbles but whacks her camel anyways.

Apparently she whacked it harder than anybody else. It now raced at an alarming speed.

"All you suckers better hurry up!" She shouts back at the three boys hurrying their camels.

* * *

><p>"Have you got his location Sugar?" Quinn asks, her eyes fixed on her grand plan.<p>

"Yep, he's gone into the main tent."

"Good, Tina. Have we got a signal?"

Tina plays with the receiver in the jeep till the noise stops and clear voices can be heard.

"Got it."

"Britt, are you in uniform? And do you have a clear shot?"

Silence.

"Britt?"

"Oh, she's daydreaming again." Sugar notifies with a shrug.

Quinn puts her paper to the side.

"Earth to Brittany," she waves her hand to get Brittany's attention.

"Yeah?"

"yeah, I just asked if you're ready."

"Sure, of course." Brittany picks herself up and begins inspecting her sniper gun.

"Is something the matter?"

Quinn has known Brittany long enough to know that only a few things can make her mind fall into deep occupation. Usually its mind games, or complex puzzles she works out in her head in one go, or Santana.

At this point, it's most likely the last.

"You're thinking about her."

Brittany bites her lip in response.

"She's here." She states simply. "I don't want her to get hurt. I have to make her get away from all this. No matter what happens with us, I still care about her."

"I know Brittany," Quinn sympathizes, "and I know you two weren't married for seven years only to be broken now. You'll find a way."

"Thanks Quinn," Brittany really hopes Quinn is right, that they'll be able to fix what they started destroying years ago with a simple lie.

* * *

><p>Well the camel riding was going much better once Kurt showed them animals were like people, you treat them nice and they do what you want.<p>

Santana lead the way till they reached a parting between two hills.

Oil wells and sky reaching drilling machines lay scattered all over a few hundred mile radius.

"This must be the place," Santana wipes the sweat off her brow. Sure camels were cool but they definitely weren't air conditioned.

"I see a tent," Sam loud mouths from his position a ways up one of the hills. "I also see his jeep in front of it, that's probably where he is."

"Alright, prepare the gear."

Kurt and Sam begin to set up the missile launcher.

* * *

><p>"How am I supposed to sedate him? The walls aren't see-through." Brittany states the obvious.<p>

"That's what we have special gear for, here." Tina comes up behind Brittany and places heavy, black goggles on the bridge of her nose.

"Better?"

Brittany squints a little getting used to the blurry vision. She definitely sees people in the tent now. They are dark red shadows against the hazy golden sand. She quickly spots Rory; it's easy to tell which shadow he is by the way he walks.

"Yeah, I see him. There are three other people in the tent, two male and one female."

"Whenever you're ready Britt," Quinn says, holding her breath. From now on for the next fifteen minutes she prays none of her team gets injured.

Brittany nods, she waits for the right time. It presents itself when Rory seems to lift something to his lips.

She pulls the trigger.

A second after Brittany can see the shadow make a clumsy fall forward but he seems to have caught himself on the table. The two men rush to his side.

"I'm going in," Brittany announces hastily, she along with Tina run quickly from their post down the hill towards the tent.

Panic seems to have taken over. Everyone is shouting, and more people have come.

"Paramedic!" Brittany screamed as she and Tina burst through the tent doors. No one stopped them, they seemed relieved that someone had thought to call for professional help although they had no idea how they came so fast.

Brittany and Tina made quick work of settling Rory Flanagan onto their stretcher. Their fake costumes slipped the eyes of those in the room.

With little effort, the two girls hauled stretcher and all into the awaiting jeep.

"Call this number in an hour for updates, we're taking him to the American Hospital because he is a U.S. citizen." Brittany says with a panicked voice suitable for the circumstances.

* * *

><p>"Forget it you two!" Santana shouts.<p>

She's seen everything that's happened and if her eyes aren't deceiving her, that's Brittany down there in a doctors costume, talking to the fucking enemy of the United States. She should have known Brittany was going to be doing the job, Brittany is hella convincing and Santana knows it first-hand.

Brittany was the one who insisted they plant a garden. She told Santana that she'd like it even when Santana scoffed in her face. Well needless to say, her garden became her sanctuary after a tiring day and yeah so what if Brittany knew that gardening would be one of her favorite hobbies. The point is that Brittany can make anyone do anything.

And she effectively just stole their number one target, no sweat.

"What! I have a clear shot!" Sam 'big mouth' shouts back at her. His finger is still on the trigger and the gun is till pointing in Brittany's ….whoop's …Rory's general direction.

"We just got it set up Santana, now's are chance," Kurt puffs. He's more used to the paper work and making fancy stationary when they need to send fake letters to people.

"So what? Clearly Flanagan is taken care of. That could be his corpse! We can't just kill innocent people!" Well, those people aren't so innocent. They're probably supporting Iraq or something and Brittany is a damn good liar.

"So we aren't going to shoot?"

Sam can hardly believe what he's saying.

Santana shakes her head. "Obviously you guys are two dim witted to do anything on time and now someone's done the job for us. Rory is dead as a horse. We're packing up."

"Wait, but how can we be sure?" Blaine asks. Oh, Santana nearly forget that curly hair was there with them.

"We'll see where they take the body." Santana thinks quickly, "and if it so happens that he's not dead then we riddle him with bullets and hope y'all have your guns loaded when the time comes."

The others groan their yes's, Santana looks at the moving jeep a final time and thinks how she's so pathetic. She could have just closed her eyes and let somebody else blow Brittany to pieces, but even now after all the lies and separation she won't let anybody touch a hair.

Santana Lopez is miserable and pathetic.

* * *

><p>"What the fuck was that?" Brittany ducks her head as a bullet whizzes past, sitting snug in the windshield.<p>

"I don't know but you should pray they don't…"

The sound of something exploding and then a hiss reaches their ears. "Great," Tina throws her hands up.

"ABORT MISSION, ABORT MISSION" Quinn screams through the mic.

That's their cue to abandon vehicle and run for their lives.

* * *

><p>"God damn, what the hell?" Santana ducks for cover. They hadn't made it two feet from where they unpacked before hundreds of bullets came flying their way.<p>

"They know our position," Kurt shrieks and caught in the moment grabs Blaine's hand, as if that's going to keep him from getting shot.

"No shit Sherlock!"

Santana gets to her camel and unties it from the well. "When I find out who gave away our position I'm going to send their ass packing to the Himalayan Mountains. And if my instincts aren't right, that would be you Trouty. I knew your big mouth would cause trouble."

They're all at different stages of mounting now. Santana gives a quick whipping to her camel making it speed off.

She can hear, 'Sorry' coming from behind her. If the bad guys weren't on their trail already, Sam sure helped figure out where they were. Oh, she cursed the sand dunes for their bad omens in giving her subordinates like Trouty loud mouth, good for nothing gay boy and blazer bad hair Blaine.

* * *

><p>"Why were they shooting at us?"<p>

No one has an answer.

"They couldn't have known!"

"They didn't" Quinn reassures Brittany. She saw the whole thing from the great escape to the moles on the hill to the heavy artillery and the unintentional crossfire.

"Some people were on the hill opposite of us, that's who they were firing at."

"Some people huh?"

Brittany smirks. Some people who are always getting up in her business. It's time to pay a visit to Santana.

* * *

><p>So, the ride back took longer than it did to get there. At least she found out something about her team – they were fucking useless. Seriously, no one had a compass on them. It took Santana forever to navigate them all out of the god forsaken desert in one piece.<p>

She really needs a bath. Sand is itchy like … she needs to stop swearing.

Santana spent a whole afternoon in the shower. If she really counted, it was only two hours.

Too much was on her mind and she felt so directionless. She had lost Rory, she had lost Brittany, she had lost her whole life and the only thing she knows for sure is that she's in this bath tub soaking to wrinkles.

She finally gets out and doesn't even bother to dry her hair. Maybe she should try to get some sleep. Maybe a new place would help her not miss Brittany sleeping beside her.

Oh, who is she kidding? New places are harder to sleep in and Brittany is somewhere in this very hotel. How is he supposed to get any sleep?

Santana plops head first, completely naked onto her king sized bed. Blaine was good for one thing – getting them awesome rooms.

Her eyes don't stay shut for long though. Santana feels something stiff and unclothe-like under her head.

Grabbing it, she opens her eyes to see what it is.

_We need to talk. You, cramping my style, is not cool. Find me tonight at the ball._

It's not signed but Santana sure as hell knows who wrote it. She would recognize that handwriting anywhere.

She thinks of trying to sleep again but no. Now her mind is working double speed and it's telling her she needs something to wear tonight. Santana doesn't know about Brittany, but she's going to dress to impress.

* * *

><p>"Oh my god, I did not see what I just thought I saw."<p>

Santana covers her eyes and turns around as fast as possible. "Are you decent yet?"

After two seconds Blaine clears his throat.

"Yeah, it's safe to look. I mean, there wasn't anything going on…"

"Nothing going on my ass," Santana marches into the boys room and perches on the desk. "I should have known you were gay too. Your hand….I don't even want to say it or imagine it, which will happen if I vocalized the horror that I just saw."

"What's going on out there?" Sam's voice booms from the bathroom. It sounds like he's eating something. Who eats and goes at the same time? Ugh, Sam probably can't do anything without occupying his mouth. "What am I missing?"

"You're lucky you aren't scared for life," Santana shouts over Sam's voice and quickly gets back to the problem at hand. Wait, which one? Damn, her life is complicated.

"Okay, so I never want to see that again ever." Santana says pointedly at Blaine and Kurt. "I do not need to see you groping his junk while exchanging saliva, you hear me? Good."

When Santana is on a roll, she is unstoppable and you do not interrupt her.

That is the first rule on the unspoken 'Scary Santana' list circulated widely in their company. How this list hasn't reached Santana is a miracle.

"…Now that we've got that cleared up. Kurt will be doing me a favor."

"What is it?"

Kurt shakes in his Armani slacks.

"You're going to buy everyone clothes for tonight's ball. All you guys will be concealed as guards or waiters, whatever clothes you can find and get something spectacular for me. I need to stand out because I need someone to notice me."

Blaine and Kurt raise their eyebrows but don't say anything.

"Can I…" Blaine begins but Santana cuts him off with a wave of her hand.

"Go, whatever. Just don't get caught doing _that_ in the market place and be back six at the latest. Ball is at 7."

Brittany is so going to regret ever lying to her once she sees how stunning Santana looks. The thought makes the next few hours bearable. Well, that and her talented fingers.

In – action Britt is a turn on.

* * *

><p>"I look hot,"<p>

Sugar plays with her skirt in the mirror.

That afternoon the girls had splurged on some designer gowns to wear at the ball. What? The agency was paying and they never made a deal of how much their operations cost if it got done, might as well take advantage of the free stuff.

"Rory is going to fall head over heels."

Sugar smacks her cherry pink lipstick.

"…and lets not forget what happens after that." Quinn says, continuing to apply make-up to Brittany's face.

Brittany had told Quinn about her plan to talk to Santana. And although it was risky, Quinn knew it was what Brittany needed. Also, if it could get Santana's team off their backs then she was all for negotiation.

Tina sits on the ledge of the balcony, engrossed in need for speed. She wasn't one for long desk time in front of a mirror. Eyeliner was her thing, and she had practiced putting it on her eyelids in one smooth ninja move she probably learned from 'fruit slice.'

With the intensity of her game though, Brittany was concerned Tina would plummet to her death doing a 360 degree drift.

"Done," Quinn announces after putting the final touch. All the girls turn their attention to Brittany who eyes herself in the mirror.

"Well, whoever you're going to meet is lucky you're getting this pretty for them."

"I just want to know when we're leaving." Tina says.

"Okay, everyone has their bags and weapons ready?"

Brittany, Sugar and Tina nod. Hidden underneath their dresses are many types of strangling devices, courtesy of Tina.

"Ready," Brittany huffs, she really hopes she is. She needs to be if she's going to face Santana.

* * *

><p>"Newsflash,"<p>

Santana nearly rips her ear piece off. Boy seriously needs to control his pitch.

"You can whisper tuna lips."

"Rory is here."

Santana really doesn't need to deal with two things tonight but what choice does she have?

"Okay, Sam, you and Blaine are on Flanagan. I don't care how you kill him, just make sure we're not caught in the aftermath"

"Copy. Over and out."

Sam is so lame.

Santana doesn't have long to dwell on all the flaws of her team though, she has a girl to find.

* * *

><p>Brittany stands on the second floor overlooking the mingling guests. She takes out her mini-binoculars to scan everything that is going down.<p>

Sugar is on Rory's arm, being paraded around to sample all the delightful drinks. Brittany hopes Sugar is discreetly not drinking them or their whole plan could be in danger.

She knows Quinn is opposite of her, scanning the scenario as well. Tina is getting in with the Asian crowd and doing pretty well from Brittany's point of view. Who knew that behind that geek was a charmer? Either that or Asians create rapport easily, maybe Tina used her 'same village' trick that Brittany uses all the time with every European person she gets acquainted with.

Then there are the three guys who clearly aren't natives, pretending to be guards. That blond hair, dainty lady face and gelled grape bowl trio stand out like sore thumbs.

Another person that stands out in her long flowing silk red dress is Santana. She's never looked more beautiful. Anyone could easily mistake her for a Middle Eastern princess.

Brittany puts her optics away and fixes her dress a final time.

* * *

><p>Santana's been mingling and on the look-out for Brittany, but she's not been successful in either.<p>

She quickly made up a story when she found out she'd be needing one about how she was a diplomat's daughter who was educated in the States and had just come back specifically to attend this function with her father.

All the men bought it easily, mostly because they were paying more attention to her cleavage then to her story.

And then in the corner of her eye she spotted her, that glittering blue dress, that curvaceous body, that smooth white skin, on the arm of some old, hairless, bushy brow, turban wearing, fat bellied….Santana can go on. The conclusion though? He is someone that does not deserve to have Brittany, glorious woman, her wife, well, ex-wife on his arm.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me?" Santana interrupted the Arab blob's conversation and Brittany's fake laugh. "I realize I know you from somewhere, would you mind having a chat?"<p>

Santana turns on her charm to maximum.

Brittany whispers into the Arab's ear and he lets her go with a kiss on the cheek.

Santana almost barfs at the sight.

They begin walking towards the exit, Santana hoping to talk to Brittany in private but Brittany has other plans.

Grabbing hold of Santana's elbow Brittany cocks an eyebrow, "Shall we dance?"

Santana's not comfortable dancing with Brittany in front of all these people, Brittany can see it the way Santana's eyes shift to the crowds in fear.

Instead, Brittany leads her to a corner where not many people are.

They fall into position easily having done this a thousand times. All those late night swing dances, all the grinding in the clubs, all the rock and roll nights they attended; Santana remembers them all. But she remembers the waltz best. Santana was not going to look like a clutz at her wedding dance so she took classes with Brittany who was already a master at it but did it with her anyways.

That Brittany had cared about her, this one was someone new. Santana had to remember that.

"You're looking gorgeous tonight, trying to impress somebody?" Brittany leads. Her fingers squeezing Santana's waist gently.

"I was afraid you might have got sand in your eyes and wouldn't be able to see me." Santana smirks but quickly breaks eye-contact not trusting herself to lock gazes.

"That was fast, you churn them fibs out good. Had me fooled."

Santana stiffens at Brittany's remark. Did she just call her out?

"I see you are every bit as talented. Take that as a compliment." She replies.

Brittany leads them to slide across the floor, twirling till they come to a stop.

"Well how about you give me a straight answer. What are you doing here?" Brittany whispers in Santana's ear before loosening her grip. They step back into the waltz.

"I could ask you the same thing."

A twirl, a step, forwards, backwards.

"I know what you're doing here; I'm just wondering why you haven't done it yet or what you're waiting for."

"Don't fool yourself, not everything circulates around you Britt."

"So you're here for Flanagan."

Santana nods, stepping closer into Brittany's personal space. "I'll make you a deal, you let me finish my work and I don't kill you."

"That's weak," Brittany chuckles, "If you were going to kill me you would have done so a long time ago. Or are you waiting for an invite to my room tonight?"

If this were any other scenario, Santana would have jumped at the opportunity. "Why did you lie to me?"

"It's not like you were telling the truth either." Brittany shrugs. The song ends and a new one begins, rawer, more intense.

"It takes two to tango huh?" Santana thinks it's appropriate for their dance and kind of a clever comeback.

"It takes two to do a lot of things Santana, and that includes a relationship." Brittany's leg brushes against Santana and their faces are millimeters apart when they look left and right.

"Like you ever wanted one,"

"Why would I marry you then?"

Santana thinks long and hard. This could all have been an elaborate plan leading up to this moment here. It didn't feel like it then and it doesn't feel like it now but that's the only explanation she can accept.

"So you could lead me on, do anything you wanted with me and get rid of me when you needed to." Santana says through clenched teeth.

"Then I guess you never knew me at all. After seven years, I'm hurt," Brittany marches them clear across the floor and dips Santana, bending down to whisper in her ear. "You have one option Santana; leave before I'm forced to hurt you."

"Never," Santana replies, "Everything I wanted was for _us_. I kept the truth so that _you_ would be safe. The whole reason I'm after Flanagan is so that _we_ can have the life that I've always wanted for us."

"Well, you know that isn't going to happen anymore so go home." Brittany lifts Santana to a standing position.

"Tell me," Santana's words get stuck in her throat, "tell me we are over and I will stop at nothing to destroy you."

"I…I have to go."

Faster than a blink of an eye Brittany's gone, leaving Santana thinking only one thing – Brittany had not said those final words. This wasn't over. They weren't over.

* * *

><p><strong>cliffhanger, sort of? <strong>

**I would love to hear what you think of the story so far. **


	11. Chapter 10

**Some people were saying Brittany isn't showing as much feeling as Santana. I re-read my last two chapters and I thought it was pretty clear Brittany was just as torn. **

**Anyways, new chapter! I am slowly getting to that scene everyone is looking forward to LOL!**

**Thank you for the reviews!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 10<p>

"What's the emergency?"

Brittany ran as best she could with five inch pumps sending painful jolts through her calves. Quinn's voice was urgent, telling Brittany to meet the rest of the girls behind the kitchen.

She rounded the corner and there, by the trashcans were three girls huddled over a body.

"Brittany," Quinn sighed with relief now that they were all together.

"What happened to him?" Brittany pointed to the still body of Rory Flanagan. "Is he…"

"No, he's drugged and has a bullet in his abdomen among other places, but that's the worst."

"We have to take him somewhere safe and clean his wounds." Sugar turned her concerned face towards Brittany, hoping someone would do something before Rory dies of infection.

"Where's our escape vehicle?" Brittany scanned the dark alley-way with only a small light shed from the streetlamp on the main road. "We have to get going girls; whoever did this is probably on our trails now."

Tina got the hint. She rose off her knees, and told everyone to stay put while she fetches the car.

* * *

><p>"I want the whole story,"<p>

Santana was not in a good mood. She already knew her boys messed up. All she asked for was Flanagan dead and three men couldn't follow her orders.

The three guys eyed each other, pleading for the others to open their mouths.

"Fuck it! What do I have to do to fix the shit you made?"

Santana didn't care about keeping her voice down. This would be the final time they fail her. She's going to personally see to it that the trouble maker of a boy they'd been trying to kill for days was finally sent to his grave; even if it meant fighting over his body with Brittany.

"So no one is going to tell me?"

Kurt finally stepped forward, swallowing a large gulp of air and hoped it wasn't his last.

"We were watching him. The plan was to wait till he left for the men's room then we'd kill him easily and dispose his body in a dumpster. But someone got him first…the ladies…in Vera Wong gowns, her new Spring Maiden collection…"

"Not now Kurt," Blaine had the audacity to whisper before sinking back into the background.

Kurt gave a nervous smile, apologizing for using up more of Santana's low patience. "They were getting away with Flanagan. I guess they drugged him. So we followed them to the back of the kitchen area and started shooting."

Santana's heart jumped when she heard the words.

"Did you get any of the women?" she asked through gritted teeth. If they shot Brittany, she might have to kill one of them.

"No, we hit the body a few times I think. They were moving fast and were very organized; they knew what they were doing. I don't think they are ordinary women."

"Obviously," Santana rolled her eyes. "So where are they now?"

"Hiding somewhere out back." Sam had the courage to speak now that the story of their failure was out.

"Why didn't you follow them? How are we supposed to find them now?"

The irritation in Santana's voice made the men fidget.

"There's nowhere to go but the main street, we can try to block their way of escape."

Santana took in the knowledge, and made up her mind.

They had to move now if they wanted to catch the group of women, Santana knew that much. She didn't really have a plan though.

On one hand she needed back-up just in case Brittany actually meant what she said and would try to kill her. Yet, she didn't want the boys interfering.

"Did you guys contact Puck and update him on our status?"

Three heads shook simultaneously.

"Okay then, two of you get on that and pack our stuff."

Kurt and Blaine immediately scurried off.

"Guys…" Sam's voice trailed off. Too late.

He turned to face Santana sheepishly. "Umm, great..how can I help?"

"Follow me and don't do anything unless I'm in danger or I tell you to."

"Got it," Sam nodded and walked a step behind Santana as she made her way to the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Brittany was sitting in the back seat of the Chevrolet with Quinn. The still body was squished between them.<p>

They're on a tight schedule to get Rory out of the country before anyone could notice.

"How did your talk go?" Quinn broke the silence.

"Not good, she's not backing down."

"So I suppose we'll be seeing more of her." Quinn stated as a fact. Brittany only offers a nod.

"I don't understand why she's such a block head. Why does she want me to hurt her?"

Quinn doesn't have an answer but she kind of knows. Santana's one of those people who cannot be moved when determined to do something. And for some reason, she's determined to kill Rory Flanagan.

"Why didn't you ask her? You were supposed to get her to stop following us."

"And now it's my fault." Brittany scoffed, her voice splintered.

She cleared her throat to hide it. "She doesn't listen, she never has. Before, we'd always fight about the little things like folding the dish towels or stacking the magazines by month. She never did do those things."

"I'm sorry Brittany," Quinn took her hand, her eyes glimmer with hope that Brittany will take her apology. "It's not your fault, she's making this so much more difficult for us then it should be and I'm mad at her."

Brittany nodded. "I didn't mind her not doing those things you know? I should have, but I wasn't. It was like, every time I had to nag her about doing something she would come up with an excuse why she shouldn't have to. And then I'd just start doing them for her, then she'd give this cute growl, throw her hands up and help me. Things were simple, they were perfect…I loved that she'd do things because she wanted to and not because I asked."

Quinn could see the sad smile on Brittany's face as she remembered all the things she shared with Santana in her past life. The time when Brittany would dry the dishes and Santana would flick water on them afterwards to get a raise and then a little loving out of her. There were times when Santana wouldn't arrange her shoes when she got home, only to watch Brittany bend over and do it. When Brittany got back up Santana would be waiting for her with a kiss and a word of appreciation for her ass.

Deep inside, Brittany wished they could go back to being just Brittany and Santana Lopez.

Brittany was brought out of her thoughts when the car lurched forward and back again.

"Tina, what is wrong with you?" Quinn cradled her head, smashed against the glass window.

"There's a woman with a gun blocking the road is what's wrong."

* * *

><p>Santana stood there, feet firm and heart racing.<p>

The car was coming at her, lights blinding her eyes. In two feet if the car didn't stop, she would shoot the driver and jump out of the way.

"5…4…3…2.." She let her breath out before reaching one. The car had stopped.

She remained in her stance, fingers ready to fire at a moment's notice.

"Give me the hostage," she shouted with a strong steady voice.

A door opened and one person came out gun pointed at her.

Santana had an inkling things were not going to be as easy as she'd hoped. Before she knew it, four guns were aimed in her direction.

"Get out of the way," The Asian girl shouted.

"No, I need Rory Flanagan." Santana's voice began to waver but she did not let down her guard.

It seemed like they'd be there for a long time, nobody moving a muscle. From the corner of her eye she could see Sam raising his gun aiming for Brittany.

She had to stop him without giving him away.

"How about a negotiation?" She croaked.

"We're not going to stand here and talk, get out of the way." This time it was Quinn.

Santana felt her grip sliding fast. There was no way she and Sam could out gun four trained agents.

"I'll talk to her," Brittany spoke through the thick tension. She got a nod from Quinn.

"Lower your guns," Quinn commanded; eyes still locked on Santana making sure Santana knew the order was for her as well.

Brittany stepped forward into the flood of light, gun pocketed. Santana pockets her gun as well eying the other girls as they do the same. For a split second, she looks to Sam who hasn't changed position.

"You have to let us go," Brittany said to Santana, not with wrath but with a hint of desperation.

"Why? What do you want with Rory Flanagan?" Santana replied stiffly. Brittany's body in close approximation is not helping her speak easier.

"Information." Brittany sighed, "Look it's clear we're both on a mission to kill whoever is behind a certain message and neither of us is making much progress because the other is constantly getting in the way."

Santana nodded in agreement but waited for Brittany's to continue.

"I'll make you a deal."

"What deal?"

"If after questioning, Flanagan is guilty…we'll kill him."

There was a pause as Santana thought it over. It's a good deal but she didn't want to give in too easily.

"And if he isn't guilty, you let him go?"

"Yes."

"I can't have that." Santana shook her head. If Rory Flanagan wasn't dead then she would be.

"Why?" Brittany's blue eyes stung her.

_Because then I'll die before we have a chance to make things right._

"Because, my mission was to kill him by Saturday night and as you well know, that deadline is just about expired."

"Who are you working for? And why do they want him dead?" Brittany cocked an eyebrow and folded her hands over her chest. Her body language was more relaxed as if this was an ordinary night and the two of them were having a regular couples quarrel.

"I'm an assassin; I thought you knew that much Brittany."

It hurt Brittany that Santana had alluded to her not so clever ways. She knew she was smart at a lot of things but some simple things just slipped her mind.

"I'm not dumb Santana, I know that." Her voice hardened.

"Then you should also know that I could be paid by anyone on the planet to do my job. I don't have a motive to kill so that answers your second question; I just do it."

_Well, this time I do have a motive. To finally catch a break, _Santana thought to herself.

Brittany shifted on her feet uncomfortably, knowing her whole team was waiting with bated breath for the results of their 'negotiation'.

"Well, my mission is to protect him till we know he's guilty. Hence, what I told you. If he is guilty then we'll kill him."

"Knowing how you are, you'll probably let him go." Santana said quietly, "you couldn't stand killing anyone."

"Excuse me?" Brittany heated up, Santana had insulted her intelligence and her ability to do her job all in one night. "Do you not trust my judgment? Do you not think I can't kill you right now with my bare hands?"

"Everyone knows you couldn't even hurt a puppy Brittany," It wasn't what Santana meant to say, but it came out on its own. "And this is not about your judgment. I don't trust you with him."

Santana meant she didn't trust Brittany in the same room as the person she was going to kill, he could be dangerous, but again it came out wrong.

"Maybe that was our problem all along!" Brittany shouted.

An audible groan came from the other three girls.

"Our problem was that we got married…!"

"Is that so?" Brittany cut Santana off.

The quarrel had intensified to a whole other level.

Brittany stepped forward, towering over Santana. Her eyes were coals of fire.

"I guess you're right then. If I had known, I wouldn't have married you." The force which she said the words caused some spit to land on Santana's face.

Santana pushed Brittany away but the taller girl grabbed her hands.

They struggled with each other for some time. Santana pushing and Brittany not willing to let go.

Then there was a gasp behind Brittany.

Sugar covered her mouth in horror.

It was Sam. He had stepped out of the shadows and walked straight to Brittany, holding the gun to her head.

"Let her go," He demanded. Before Santana or Brittany could do anything, the gun was knocked out of his hand.

He turned; surprised to see the mean growl Quinn was giving him. "You better leave them alone." He thought of fighting Quinn, but she held his gun to his stomach.

Sam backed away as did Quinn.

"Look, we're wasting time here." Brittany held Santana's attention again. "Get out of the way or I'll tell my friend to run you over."

With that both Brittany and Quinn held their guns up and retreated back to the car.

Three doors slammed at once but Brittany threw one more glance over to Santana.

"You must be happy now that you decided to break up with me." Santana shouted, knowing Brittany would wait to hear the end of what she had to say. "You want that, fine, you can come pick up your stuff in the front yard!"

Brittany smashed the door shut.

"Damn it Tina, send her to hell."

Tina put the car to full throttle; they sped at Santana and Sam who moved out of the way at the last second.

* * *

><p>On the airplane the girls sat solemnly, no one willing to address the elephant in the room.<p>

It was getting awkward, each girl sipping their drink and trying not to make more than small talk. It ended finally when Rory Flanagan started to come to.

"Time to work," Tina bounced up and dragged a chair towards their bound captive.

She was the first person he saw.

"Where am I?" Rory moved his arms to try and rub his eyes but found that he couldn't. "Why am I tied up?"

Tina smiled.

Brittany had told Tina to be ruthless. They may have been protecting him till they could get answers but Rory was by no means precious property.

In the back of her mind, Brittany started to believe that maybe Rory wasn't innocent. She hoped he wasn't so that they could kill him with a clear conscious and then one step of her problem with Santana would be solved.

Well, it was like one step forward one step backwards. Santana had practically thrown her out of the house and probably wasn't in the mood to sort things out any time soon.

"You don't need to know that. All you need to know is this. You give us answers or we blow your brains, got it?"

Rory moved his head up and down but it only made him groan in pain.

"Do you know what this is?" Tina held up the note that read _BG 321-Flanagan_

"It has my name on it." Rory observed as if seeing the note for the first time. "I didn't write it."

"Why does it have your name on it then?"

Rory shook his head, "I don't know."

"You don't have to lie. There's no use, tell us the truth or we'll throw you out of the plane."

Tina began to inch his chair closer to the aircraft's door.

"Okay, okay" Rory shouted fearfully. "I didn't write it, someone forged my handwriting. I have no idea who…actually maybe I do... my uncle."

"Explain."

The other girls were in different states of listening in on the conversation, while Tina narrowed her eyes.

"You know, my uncle is Jesse St. James. He's always been jealous of my dad for inheriting the sheep farm. And now that our family has invested in oil, my uncle has become even more jealous…He wants to destroy my father's business."

"Sugar, you got that?" Tina said without looking behind her.

Sugar nodded from behind her notepad.

At the mention of Sugar's name Rory lifted his eyes up. "You're helping them?" His puppy dog eyes sagged, "How could you do this to me?"

Sugar was lost for words. She looked at her friends for help.

"That's none of your business," Tina snapped at him, "Now where were we?"

"Excuse me, but can I have a glass of water please? Sugar?" This time Sugar couldn't stand the look so she fetched him a glass.

She brought it to him, realizing she'd have to help him drink.

"I understand Sugar," Rory said in between gulps, "but when I get out of this maybe you'll still want to see me again?" He let Sugar lift the glass to his lips once more.

Sugar was flattered.

Rory motioned for Sugar to come closer. He whispered in her ear and made her blush.

"Alright, enough with the sappiness, it's killing the atmosphere." Tina shoved Sugar away earning a glare.

"What were you doing in Qatar?"

"Why would I tell you that?" There was a change in his voice that made everyone in the room feel uneasy.

"To help us decide that you're innocent so we can let you go."

"As if that will happen," Rory laughed loudly, no longer playing the victim. "No matter what I say, you'll kill me."

"We will for sure if you don't answer the question."

"I'm not saying anything else. I was on family business and I'm not the one you should be wasting your time with."

"It's only a waste of time if we don't get anything from you. Tell us more about your uncle."

"Why don't you just push me out of the plane?" Rory chuckled, not taking Tina's threat seriously.

The normally cool girl had had enough of him.

"Quinn, open the latch. He's useless to us now."

Tina marched away. No one caught the smile on Rory's lip as they watched Tina stomp towards the latch and open it.

The door began to open and the wind from outside knocked Rory's chair over.

"Wait Tina!" Sugar cried. Quinn made a half hearted effort to hold Tina back. Inwardly, she was glad to be rid of the brat. Brittany was glad Rory would be out of the way now.

Tina was not stopped.

With one shove, Rory Flanagan was falling, chair and all on crash course to the ground.

The girls leaned over the edge to watch him plummet to his death. But that was not what they saw.

Somehow Rory was not attached to the chair, he fell freely.

"My knife!" Sugar exclaimed, groping her pocket for the weapon that was not there.

That was not the only horrifying truth. The girls watched as a man clad in black jumped out of a flying vessel and grabbed Rory before pulling his parachute.

The vessel began to move after the floating bundle and soon enough both men were safe inside.

"He was bluffing the whole time."

Tina breathed like a dragon, not appreciating the fact that he'd fooled her into playing along with his plan.

"Now you can ring up Santana and tell her Rory is all hers." Sugar said lightly, hoping to break the tense atmosphere. "What a shame though, he was such a charmer."

"I'm sure," Brittany glared daggers at Sugar, "Charmed his way to freedom."

* * *

><p>"Santana what the…"<p>

"Not now Puck," Santana slurred, hitting her head against the doorframe of Pucks room.

The unsuspecting Puck dropped his joystick and scrambled to help Santana on her feet.

"Why are you here?"

Santana never came to him for advice or anything really.

"Mercedes is out of town," was Santana's simple explanation.

"I take it the mission didn't go well and you are not celebrating the death of Rory Flanagan." He murmured under her dead weight. Santana let herself be dragged before coming to her senses.

"Get off me!" She jerked her arms away. No longer having support, she fell on her butt.

Puck let out a large laugh and helped her up. "You drunken ass, come here!"

"Shut up, I need to unwind." Santana dropped her whole body down onto Pucks bed.

She had tried to go home earlier but when she saw the dark house and started imagining all of Brittany's stuff strewn across the yard, she burst into hysterics and sat down on the pavement to cry.

Santana didn't want to spend the night alone. Mercedes had gone to the Bahamas for the week, so that's how she ended up at Pucks.

"Did you go home at all?" Puck asked getting Santana one of his large T-shirts and basketball pants.

"Yes, and it was empty…just so empty. It was a house full of nothing," Santana rambled on.

Puck helped Santana sit up and handed her the clothes. "Go into the bathroom now unless you want to give me a free show that I will greatly enjoy."

"I'm your friend, why would you want to perv on me?" Santana reluctantly got up and staggered to the bathroom.

"Just go," Puck waved as he got back to his game.

* * *

><p>"Do you think now is a good time?" Quinn sat in her car with Brittany across from the Lopez house.<p>

"Might as well be now before she gets back. She doesn't want to see my face anyways." Brittany grumbled as she opened her door and walked to the front gate.

Quinn followed shortly.

"Hey, calm down." She caught Brittany's arm. "You don't have to do this. You can talk to her in the morning."

Brittany pulled away. "You don't get it Quinn, she doesn't want me around anymore. I don't want to come here in the morning and see all my stuff thrown out. It'll be like she threw me out and I…"

She didn't want Quinn to see her cry.

"No one wants to be thrown out Brittany." Quinn comforted her.

"I wouldn't know what to say. She hates me; I couldn't fix it if I wanted to."

Quinn pulled Brittany into a much needed hug. Rarely did Brittany cry, but she was doing so now.

"Do you want to fix it?"

Brittany didn't know, so she didn't answer. It would take so much work, and in the end they might never be the same as they were before.

"I want her back," Brittany cried, "but I don't know how we'll be able to trust each other again."

"You don't have to figure it out now okay?" Quinn said, patting Brittany's back, "You can move in with me until you work things out with Santana. Come on, you guys love each other."

Brittany smiled at that. If Quinn knew they loved each other than deep down Santana must know that Brittany still loved her.

"You okay now?" Quinn said.

"Yeah," Brittany wiped the last tears from her eyes. "Let's go."

Quinn let Brittany lead the way.

"So like how much stuff are we talking because my car isn't that big."

Brittany produced her key and approached the door, "Just my clothes and personal things. We were very particular when we decorated the house so it's perfect how it is; I wouldn't want to ruin that. I'm going to miss it."

They stood there a while on the porch before Quinn cleared her throat.

"umm Brittany?"

"Oh right," Brittany turned the doorknob, then looked at the keys in her hand, "I didn't have to use the key."

Quinn caught on immediately, "Which means Santana is home or was home and forgot to lock the house."

They locked eyes.

Preferring to be safe, Brittany and Quinn went back to the car and grabbed a gun each.

* * *

><p>Santana was feeling a lot better after she showered. Her head was clearer and she wasn't crying anymore thank God.<p>

She came out of the bathroom with Pucks clothes drooping off her small frame. She didn't mind though, they were comfortable.

"Looking good Lopez," Puck spared a glance before saving his game. "And good thing you're done, girls shower way too long and Puck jr. needed to go."

Santana pretended to barf. "Gross, you're worse than a girl naming your thing."

"Better than calling it _thing_" Puck laughed, pushing his way past Santana into the bathroom.

Not having anything better to do Santana sat on Pucks bed and observed his room. It was a very typical guy's room with posters of Pucks favorite rock bands and a giant one of Neil Diamond on the roof above the bed.

She began to fiddle with the joystick fallen helplessly off a pillow. On the screen was an action game. She paused it and began hitting some keys, that made the on-screen gun turn left and right.

Now this is a game she could play. Santana smirk to herself as she found the firing button.

She didn't know how long she was playing before sensing Puck's presence.

"Doing pretty good Lopez, just watch out for the gunman on top of that crate."

"Thanks for the warning I did not need," Santana focused on finding said gunman and shooting him down.

By the end of the level Santana had beat Pucks score.

"Damn, we should play together sometime." Puck patted Santana on the back as she handed the controller to him.

"Sorry, don't have time for games in my life." Santana said.

"What do you do with your life?"

"I do plenty of things,"

Except all of those things involved Brittany. Maybe it was time to find some other things like games to kill time and get her mind off her wife…oops…ex-wife.

"Oh hey," Puck fished something out of his pocket. "You left these in the bathroom."

Santana took the keys back from Puck without thinking anything of them until five minutes later.

"Oh, damn."

"What's wrong Lopez?"

"I forgot to lock my house!" Santana slapped herself on the forehead for being so emotionally overwhelmed.

"You want to drive back?"

Santana decided against it. "Nah, we've got burglar alarms and cameras in the house."

Puck was looking at her weird.

"What?"

"You said we,"

Santana gulped, damn slip of the tongue.

"Ummm," she thought of something else to talk about, "hey can you log onto _yoursecurity dot com_ ? They have a channel where you can access the security cameras in your home 24/7 from any location, kind of cool actually."

"Sure,"

Puck got to the website and Santana logged in. They had to wait a little bit for the channel to stream so Santana went to get a glass of water.

She'd only gotten to open the fridge when Puck came running after her.

"Santana, there's someone stealing from your house!"

"Oh hell no!" Santana put the water down, her thirst all but forgotten.

Santana didn't bother sitting, she went straight to the screen and checked all four camera views. In the top right corner, was her bedroom and in her bedroom were two figures.

"Let's go Santana; we can get there before they're gone."

Puck was already putting on his shoes.

"No," Santana shook her head and backed up to Puck's bed.

"Why?" Puck took his shoes off and turned towards his friend who was watching the robbery taking place in her house like it was nothing.

He immediately saw the sadness on Santana's face, "Hey, what's the matter?" He wrapped an arm around her.

She leaned against him as if she had no strength left. "I kicked her out and now she's leaving for good. I didn't mean to."

She tried not to cry but with every trip in and out of the house, Santana felt pieces of her heart being ripped away.

"Who is she?" Puck whispered.

"She's…" Santana sniffled before breaking down again. "She's my wife."

* * *

><p><strong>Don't kill me yet! There's still more action scenes to come and things really blow up between our OTP. Of course that has to happen so they can work out their problems and you know...other stuff. <strong>


	12. Chapter 11

**I'm sorry it took me so long to update. To be honest, I don't have much time for writing now at the end of the semester. It's freaking tiring to study 21 credits so bear with me. **

**I would love to get back to every one of you but let me just say how much I appreciate all your comments. Thank you so much. **

**Onto the story. There's lots of action.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 11<p>

They have 24 hours to catch Rory.

Puck woke Santana up after she'd only been asleep for two-hours, exhaustion displayed on her tired eyelids and sagging face.

"I can't Puck, I'm too tired," She knew it was a losing battle but her life had been rolling downhill lately and she just wanted it to stop, become stationary. She needed time to breath.

"I'm not letting you retire to your grave early, now get up Santana. I've got coffee."

Santana growled begrudgingly.

She's much more awake, dressed for combat, weapon loaded and staring at the closet above Pucks head in concentration.

Tonight is the night.

"…It's closing night, there are going to thousands of people. Especially since the closing notice was so out of the blue, people will cram or stand outside. It's the perfect set-up."

Santana nodded. She's trying to take this seriously because her life is on the line but her focus keeps shifting to the question of 'then what?'

This whole chase had kept her occupied, it thrilled her. Part of that of course she owed to Brittany who continued to be the most exciting person she ever chased.

"I know what I have to do," Santana replied when Puck coaxed her to pay attention.

* * *

><p>"It's closing night," Quinn poked the wiggling form under the blankets. Brittany hadn't left the bed since she jumped in at 3am last night.<p>

"I don't care," It sounded like a monster talking with his mouth full of sheet.

"You have so many calls! Everyone wants you to be there!" Quinn whined. Brittany felt no urge to make her stop.

If it was Santana though, she'd bargained lady kisses to get her ass out of bed.

Shoot. She really needed to stop doing that, thinking about Santana.

Quinn had told her she had 1 day to cry but that afterwards she had to get over it. Start fresh, let the past be the past.

If she was correct, she still had another 8 hours to mope.

"Who's calling me?"

"Rachel and… yeah just Rachel."

Quinn knew she wasn't doing so well in motivating Brittany to join her.

"I don't care if Rachel is calling me,"

Head snuggled further into the bedding and Quinn let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fine, I'll go alone. But tomorrow you are going to be agent Pierce at her fiercest. Otherwise, I'm kicking you out."

* * *

><p>Sometimes desperate times called for desperate actions. Santana would call this desperate.<p>

Who knew she'd ever be on a Broadway show? That's one positive thing about this whole crappy situation, she could add onto her resume, 'look hey! I was a tree on the closing night when the male lead was murdered!'

That would be impressive. She could have a future on Broadway, a true, spectacular future.

"Finally," Santana pulled the 'leaves' out of her eyes. In the mirror she caught an image of herself. "This is ridiculous," she said under her breath before following the insistent hand ordering her to get ready to go on-stage.

The bright lights hit her fully in the eyes and then 'Romadahl' newly crowned prince began skipping jubilantly down the street.

The first thing she thought was, 'he's so sparkly.' The second thing was, 'This fucker ruined my life; control yourself before the ending turns bloody.'

It was the final scene and the crowd was wildly excited. Some were crying, others practiced breathing techniques, some were screaming their ears off.

Santana didn't see what the whole big deal was. She did her best to sway in the breeze with the other innocent trees.

It ended with a loud brass clang and many bows.

The crowd threw money into the chocolate-coin-littered street, a grand and fitting end.

For Santana it was a different type of ending. She would soon be finishing her duties; it meant no more attachment to her past life.

She followed all the other garden props off the stage while the curtain was getting readied for the final bow.

As quickly as possible, Santana slipped out of her bark and bush, picking up a large bag hidden behind a rack of clown costumes. She wasn't the only one.

The changing room was a hundred meters away from the stage where Rory Flanagan was certainly getting taking a bow, the applause was thunderous.

Looking to the side of the stage, Santana spotted the rope that lead up the scaffolding. She moved fast already pissed at being delayed.

She reached the top and balanced carefully on the beams till she was directly above the spotlights. Her hands worked on their own, getting her sniper rifle ready.

She was counting down, 10, 9, 8, 7…

Her aimer enveloped Rory's head, she steadied her breath.

6, 5, 4,…

Exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale…

3,2,1….

A loud bang was heard, but not loud enough for the audience below to take notice of the source. They filtered out not knowing what had happened.

Another equally loud bang sounded as Santana hit her shoulder on a sand bag.

Get your bearings. Come on. Snap out of it.

Santana repeated in her head as she felt something hard connect with her knee.

That sent her to down to a lower level of rough, not sanded beams. Her attacker followed, dropping nearby.

"Who are you?" Santana caught her breath and stood up slowly.

"On your wedding day, I told you if you hurt her I would kill you."

"Quinn."

* * *

><p>"Brittany! Pick up right now!"<p>

_Beep, beep, beep. Who's there? Well don't say anything stupid if you want me to return your call, muffins are burning!_

* * *

><p>"She did this, not me." Santana spit blood. "She fucking returned her wedding ring!"<p>

"Because you hurt her, you made her feel like nothing, why would she want to be married to you after that?"

"After what Quinn? We both lied, and how I see it we don't deserve each other."

Quinn grabbed Santana's hair and shoved her down another level. Santana hit her head this time. She must have a crazy number of bruises right now.

"You don't deserve her. She loved you Santana, nothing about her feelings were fake. So what if she lied about her job, does that warrant you flying off the hook at her?"

"And this is why you're single Quinn, because you don't know how relationships work. It dies without trust."

Santana lunged at Quinn, grazing her arm before letting out another series of punches that Quinn defended easily.

"Do you even know how special Brittany is? Do you think your relationship with her is normal? That girl would die for you, a million times for you. She'd be here beating me up now if she knew I was here now."

Quinn kicked Santana under her feet. Hardly being able to process what was happening, Santana held onto a beam for dear life. She tried not to look down but she did notice it would be a nasty fall.

Above her, Quinn knelt down till they were face to face.

"She would forget in a second about how you tore her heart to shreds if she knew you were in danger."

Santana shivered, she believed Quinn. Her judgment may have been clouded the past few days but she knew that in truth Brittany would be her knight in shining armor.

"Fuck you Quinn, don't you think I hurt too?"

"Maybe, but it doesn't look like you're trying very hard to fix that. You stopped caring about her that's why she returned the ring."

Santana smiled because Quinn was wrong about that. She'd finally accepted that Brittany was her everything even if she lied to her.

* * *

><p>Brittany scolded herself for the hundredth time for not checking her phone sooner. The last voicemail she'd gotten from Rachel sounded desperate, who knows what had happened in the fifteen minutes she'd decided to be an ass and ignore her friend?<p>

The streets were full of people running rampant. From where Brittany decided to park, a ways from the turmoil, she could see the smoke and flames engulfing the theater that her friends had gone to.

She tried calling Rachel again, but she did not pick-up. Brittany hoped Rachel was ok, that all her friends had made it out of the fire alive.

What could have started it anyways?

Not fearing for her life, Brittany slipped through the maddened crowd towards the toppling building.

* * *

><p>"I am kicking your ass so bad once I can breathe again," Quinn wheezed. Smoke filled her lungs and she tried to cough it up while supporting Santana.<p>

Santana was badly hurt. Apart from the beating she received from Quinn, her muscles hurt like they couldn't hold on their own anymore. She leaned on the other girl as they made it out of a crack on the side of the emblazoned theater.

"Do me a favor and just kill me," Santana let her body slide to the rubble littered ground, too tired to put up a fight.

"What in hell's name were you thinking?"

"That I didn't want to fall to my death,"

"Well it was stupid."

Quinn looked at the burning building again. They had barely made it out.

One moment she was talking some sense into Santana, the next Santana had flipped out a lighter and set her jacket on fire. From there the flames had leapt off her clothes, onto the wooden beams and spread until the whole building was on fire.

In the process of escaping, both girls found themselves helping each other climb the wood that was quickly turning charcoal black. They descended till they hit the stage then went to the walls looking for a way out. They found a hole; Quinn pushed Santana through first, and then Santana pulled Quinn through.

"Your phone is buzzing," Quinn pointed out remembering that she should call Rachel to see if she was okay.

Santana picked up and pressed the half melted plastic to her ear.

_I'm tracking Rory, he looked injured. Are you alright? I heard about a fire._

"I'm fine, or I will be fine," Santana huffed wearily. She hoped she'd done enough to help Puck capture Rory easily. "Where I did hit him?"

_Stomach, he won't last long. I'll finish the job for you. Just go to my house and take care of yourself alright? I'll see you soon._

"Yeah, see you." Santana hung up.

"Headquarters calling?"

"No, I'm going home."

Quinn helped Santana up; she didn't expect Santana to punch her full in the face.

"You bitch!" Quinn spit blood. It was a hard hit but she knew Santana had held back, her teeth were all still there and she could only feel a small cut in her lip.

Before Quinn could catch her, Santana sprinted away at full speed. She wasn't as tired as she thought; there was something she had to do that filled her with energy.

* * *

><p>"Rachel, you're alright!" Brittany hugged her friend tightly. She hugged Finn too. "Where's Quinn?"<p>

"I don't know," Rachel said, "she left for the bathroom before the show ended and after all the chaos I couldn't find her. She's not picking up her phone."

Brittany bit her lip. She was even more worried now. It had taken her forever to find Rachel who was hiding under a car for christ's sake – well it was Finn's idea so she couldn't really blame Rachel.

After the tenth call, Rachel finally realized that someone was calling her. Brittany found Rachel and Finn soon after in shock and wordlessness.

Rachel told Brittany everything that happened in detail from the wild crowd to the shot to the fire starting in the ceiling of the theater.

Something told Brittany that Santana had something to do with the disaster.

They had been sitting at a café near the scene for half-an-hour trying to make sense of everything when Quinn called Rachel.

Not long after Quinn came through the doors of the café looking like she'd gone to Iraq.

"What happened Quinn!" Rachel was the first to jump up and give her a hug. Brittany ordered mixer for Quinn before getting up to hug her too.

"Santana set the place on fire," Quinn said bluntly. She saw the waiter put her mixer down on the table and quickly grabbed it, taking large gulps.

Brittany wasn't surprised. "It's one thing to hurt me, but now she's gone too far. She almost killed my friends too."

"Wait, Brittany where are you going?" Rachel called at Brittany who already paced to the door.

"To knock some sense in that crazy woman,"

"But Britt, I already did!" Quinn shouted as loud as her coarse voice would allow but Brittany was already gone.

* * *

><p>Santana looked at the caller ID, if this were any other time she'd be happy to pick-up.<p>

"Why now?" Santana rolled her eyes, debating whether to answer or ignore. After a while, it stopped ringing. She was almost at Pucks house.

She was turning into the street when her phone went off again. This time she decided to take the call and get it over with.

"What do you want?"

"I want to know why you nearly killed our friends. Why Santana? You can hate me but this has nothing to do with them."

"You make it sound like I'm an arsonist out to murder people." Santana knew the conversation would probably not be short so she pulled up on the side of the road.

"I still want to know why, and no I don't know that you didn't do it on purpose."

"Well then, I guess you don't know me after all." Santana threw the words Brittany had once said to her back at her ex-wife.

"With the way you've been acting, no I don't know you. I don't know what's real anymore."

"Was it real before?"

"What?" Brittany hadn't expected Santana to ask her something she should have known.

"How much of it was real? I just need to know." Santana's voice softened. "Please help me to move on if this is the end for us."

"And this is your problem, always dramatic." Brittany grumbled. Santana was giving up already without a fight. She would take this over her pride of admitting their relationship had faults and over fixing things.

"I think you're talking about Berry," Santana scoffed. She was not being dramatic, she was being realistic. After what she had done there was no way Brittany would forgive her she knew it was over.

"Stop deflecting Santana. We could have talked about this, we let it get too far and it's my fault too okay?"

Santana didn't answer right away. Brittany was talking to her as if they could work it out.

"Santana?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. Let's do it then, talk about it." She sat a little lower, getting comfortable in her car seat.

"There are just … so many things… I don't know where to start." Brittany admits.

"You can tell me why you lied to me."

It stung Brittany that Santana was being so blunt. She made it sound like their relationship was ruined because she had concealed something.

"The same reason you lied to me…"

"That isn't an answer. Why didn't you tell me from the start what you were doing?"

All this condemnation was getting annoying.

"And what?" Brittany huffed, "What would that have changed? Would you still have married me if you knew? Would you have loved me less? Would you have loved me at all?"

"That's not the point; I don't know what I would have done then. But I should have known."

"What do you mean that's not the point? See this is your problem Santana and it always has been. You don't want to talk about feelings. You don't tell me what's going on. I still don't know why you're mad at me for keeping the same secret you're keeping!"

"Well, why are you mad at me?" Santana shouted back. The civil conversation was quickly slipping. "We were fine for so long.."

"No we weren't" Brittany slammed her hand against her steering wheel in frustration. Santana could be so block headed sometimes. "Our sex life was fine, but we could never really be fine when we were both keeping huge lies. It would have come out one day."

"You're right about that!" Santana laughed bitterly, she wished it had never happened. "So you just stayed with me for sex? Married me to keep your bed warm at night?" She said in dry humor. She knew she'd crossed a line but she was never good at controling her mouth.

It was the last straw for Brittany. "I can't do this Santana." She willed her tears to stay back for a moment longer; she couldn't let Santana know how weak she was without her. "It's like we aren't on the same page anymore and I'm tired of flipping back and forth trying to figure you out."

"As if you were trying," Brittany could almost see the smirk on Santana's face. She hated when Santana got insensitive to protect herself.

"You are an asshole. You need a punch in the face." She said it. She really said what she felt about Santana right then and there.

"What did you say?"

Brittany didn't have the strength to say it a second time though. She was mad as hell and beginning to cry from all the emotions breaking down her walls.

"I said lets settle this the only way we both know how. This world is clearly too small for the both of us. See you at home."

With that Brittany hung up and began driving. She had a mission.

Santana looked at her phone and blinked for a few seconds. She wasn't sure what just happened but it sounded like Brittany had challenged her after calling her a dog.

"Fine," She shouted out loud as she shifted into gear. If Brittany wanted it that way she would show Brittany who was the boss.

* * *

><p>The house was dark just like it'd been for the past few days. The only sign that life existed in there was Brittany's car parked in the driveway.<p>

Santana groaned knowing Brittany had the upper-hand. Never mind, she was a trained assassin and without the rest of her angels, Brittany would submit to her easily.

To be on the careful side, Santana stalked quietly to the front porch and looked through the window. She could only see through the small crack and so far there was no movement.

Santana made her way to the side of the house to her shed. She placed herself in the meter wide space between the buildings and began to climb. She tried to keep her breathing low as she pulled herself onto the shed's roof.

A running leap helped her onto the awning right near their bedroom window. Santana peaked inside, seeing nobody she broke the lock on the window and slowly put one leg in. When she was in the bedroom completely she let out a shaky breath – so far so good.

Santana checked are her nooks and crannies but she had no gun on her. She knew where she had to go next.

With light footsteps Santana tip-toed down the hall and crawled down the stairs. This was dangerous territory. She knew Brittany would be hiding on the first floor and so she had to be careful.

Santana spotted her weapon hide-away spot, a compartment next to her beloved salt water aquarium. It was a risk to go there because the hazy blue light would give away her position, but she needed that gun.

She could make a dash for it; the coast seemed to be clear. Santana didn't know how serious Brittany was but she had to be cautious. She didn't want to be blindsided with a bullet to her heart.

She counted in her mind…1…2…3…it was now or never. She took three long steps to the oak shelf and flicked it open. She worked as fast as she could to grab the game of battleship from inside and empty the contents, she felt blindly for her gun till her fingers ran over cold metal.

Just as she pulled it out, a deafening blast came from somewhere and a bullet whizzed right past her ear. Some glass decorations on the shelf smashed letting fly little shards that pierced her skin.

Santana heard a voice. It was familiar, yet hard and cold like she had never heard it before.

"That was just a warning shot, come and find me."

* * *

><p><strong>I'll try not to keep you waiting for too long. Hope you liked the update.<strong>


	13. Chapter 12

***Uploaded the wrong file, sorry**

**I feel like this is the chapter everyone has been waiting for. I was amazed to get so many reviews for the last chapter so thank you. **

* * *

><p>Chapter 12<p>

Santana felt herself able to breathe again as she leaned against the wall. She didn't know how this was going to play out but one thing she knew for sure, she had to disarm Brittany.

Another blast came at the wall a few feet away from her. What sort of fire arms did Brittany bring? Like is she serious?

Santana knew she had to move fast if she didn't want to be blown up.

"You don't play fair baby!" Santana shouted over the sound of crumbling cement. Brittany already knew where she was, might as well find out Brittany's location.

"Well it wasn't fair for you to put all the blame on me."

The shooting stopped. Santana had a pretty good idea where Brittany was hiding but she soaked in the silence and caught her breath before moving.

Santana peeked out from around the wall towards the stairs, she saw a shadow move quickly and disappear.

In true combat style, Santana locked her arms in a ready to shoot position as she cleared each corner. She stood at the bottom of the steps, shielded by landing area above. She looked up several times until she spotted Brittany.

Brittany had her hair tied tightly and was wearing a simple tank-top with ripped up jeans. She rarely saw her wife in such casual clothing except for when they went on dates which have been rare. For work, Brittany liked her power suits just as much as Santana did and if they were home, they were usually wearing the bare minimum or nothing at all.

Santana shook her head and tried to focus on the situation again.

_She's about to kill you and you're getting turned on. What is wrong with you?_

Santana peeked again, and this time she fired at Brittany's leg. At the last minute she decided it wouldn't do to have a scar on those glorious thighs so she missed.

Three shots fired back at her this time from a gun of a much smaller caliber. The shots barely missed her head.

"Come on baby, is that the best you can do?" Santana dashed up the stairs knowing Brittany wouldn't expect her to do something that rash.

Santana believed Brittany didn't want to kill her _yet_ or she would have been dead already. Those shots were dangerously close.

"Whatever you do I can do better honey." Brittany replied just as Santana got the top step. Santana watched in awe and terror as Brittany ran and jumped off the landing. There was no way she'd land safely at the bottom of the stairs.

"What are you doing Britt!"

Her heart almost failed her until she saw what Brittany had done. A towel was tied tightly to the railing and Brittany was dangling from her hands. She let go, dropping only about a foot to the bottom step. Damn her long arms and legs, now Santana had to catch her all over again.

"Yeah right, if you didn't come with enough firepower to blow up the Empire State building, you'd be begging for mercy babe." It came out jumpy since she was speeding down the steps, no longer afraid of Brittany shooting at her.

This whole little shooting game was becoming ridiculous.

Apparently running into the open was a bad idea. As soon as Santana marched into the living room, Brittany jumped out from behind the sofa kicking the gun out of Santana's hand.

Thinking quickly, Santana closed the space, diving for Brittany with all the power she could muster. They ended up tumbling over the couch.

The coffee table broke their fall, but really their combined body weight broke the table into a thousand jagged pieces of glass.

"That hurt, damn it!" Brittany screamed feeling sharp stings in her back. With her gun she hit Santana repeatedly on the arms, shoulders, back, anywhere to get Santana off her.

"Fuck," Santana breathed. She knew there would be multiple bruises to take care of if she came out of this alive.

With a final push, Brittany hoisted Santana off of her. She readjusted her grip on her hand gun, ready to put it into Santana's neck and get the real conversation started. But it never happened.

She never saw the palm of Santana's hand until it was in her face. The slap sounded loudly and stung like hell.

When she got her focus back together she no longer had her gun. She was doomed; Santana would probably kill her now.

Brittany was surprised to see that Santana wasn't holding the gun either. Brittany opened her mouth to say something but the words were gagged in her throat as Santana pushed her backwards into the hole ridden wall of their living room. She could barely breathe with Santana choking her.

"Why did you move out Brittany?" Santana breathed in her ear. "Why did you return your wedding ring? Why did you ruin us?" She banged Brittany's head against the wall roughly.

Brittany closed her eyes and channeled all her energy and what little breathe she had left into a swift lift of her knee.

Sure Santana wasn't a guy but the impact of hard bone in that area still had her doubling over in pain.

Brittany caught her breath before grabbing Santana and punching her.

"God that feels so good!" She exclaimed. Santana staggered but tried to stay standing. She couldn't let Brittany win.

Santana wiped the blood from her nose and launched into Brittany who side stepped making Santana stumble into a cabinet.

Brittany got to her fast and held her up against the sturdy furniture. With Santana under control, Brittany licked up her long neck tasting the sweat all the way to her ear. "You didn't want me anymore that's why Santana. You were angry at me, and you're dangerous, so dangerous baby. I'd have to sleep with a gun to your head and my finger on the trigger if I stayed. Do you understand?"

"I wouldn't have hurt you," Santana breathed bringing her hands up to smother Brittany's face. Brittany tried to pry them off but Santana was determined. "…not like that. I might have thrown dinner back in your face or thrown a tantrum but physically hurt you – never."

Getting Santana's hands off her for a moment, Brittany replied, "That's alright, my feelings wouldn't have been hurt. I don't cook sweetheart, it's all canned food with a little personal twist."

"What?"

Brittany chuckled at Santana's surprised face.

"Oh, I was content to play your little housewife. But no, I can't cook to save my life."

"Oh my god, I came home everyday to eat your crap after depriving myself of lunch?"

Brittany's face dropped.

"You haven't been eating lunch? I thought I told you it was bad to skip…"

She was cut short with a kick to the stomach. Brittany crashed into the couch, Santana landed on top of her soon after.

They struggled a bit for the upper hand.

"Oww, what has gotten into you?" Santana pulled her hand back after being bitten by Brittany. She was answered with a push to the floor.

"You said you didn't like my cooking." Brittany smirked. She straddled Santana, pressing her back into the sharp glass.

"Please, I don't like a lot of things. I don't like sea creatures cause they're so damn creepy. I don't like you working with Quinn. I don't like it when every man and his mom looks at you like your dinner whenever we go out."

Brittany loosens her grip for a moment. "What? Those were things you _told_ me you liked? The starfish we named after Berry, and Quinn being a trusty co-worker…and how everyone could look at me but you didn't care cause I was yours… "

"Guess I lied?" Santana shrugged.

"Owww," Brittany slapped her. "It's not like you tell me the truth about everything!"

With all her strength, Santana flips them over but away from the smashed coffee table.

"Well now that we're being truthful, I guess I can say that your car is anything but sexy. It literally sounds like a huge fart when you rev it up, oh, and on our honey-moon your drunk singing was such a turn off."

"Thanks for telling me," Santana rolled her eyes as she got her hands on Brittany's neck. "I will never sing for you again."

"Whatever."

Santana finally got on top and jumped to her feet. Brittany followed standing with her guard up just in case Santana attacked her.

"Show me what you can do baby. If only I knew you were a trained agent all along, play fighting would have been so much fun."

Santana darted forward but withdrew quickly, stepping from side to side looking for an angle to get past Brittany's defense. She unleashed a kick aimed for Brittany's head that hit exactly where she wanted it to.

Brittany swayed a bit but countered with a few punches, one upper cut breaking Santana's lip.

Santana wiped the blood with the back of her hand. She grabbed Brittany by the wrist and pushed her up against the cold glass of the aquarium. With her advantage, Santana slipped her arms inside and pinned Brittany's shoulders. Their mouths were so close; she could feel Brittany's breath against her cheek.

Of course she didn't do something quick enough. In the blink of an eye Brittany had switched them and her face was smashed against the aquarium, a knife at her throat.

"All I'm asking of you Santana," Brittany says slowly, deliberately like she's finally getting serious, "is that you leave me alone. I don't know if we'll ever be able to work this out but at least that big lie is out in the open. Give me time okay? I'll let you live if you don't come after me or any of our friends. Is that too much to ask?"

Santana was feeling really uncomfortable with the knife at her neck. She was afraid to say no. What if Brittany was serious about killing her? She didn't want them to end like this. But she also didn't want to stay away from Brittany, she couldn't.

In that instant, Brittany had broken her heart again without even knowing.

Santana realized Brittany was probably trying to do the right thing but it still hurt to know Brittany wanted to be away from her.

"Why can't we just work things out now?"

"Really Santana. We need a break from each other. We need time to think about what we want."

Santana already knew what she wanted; everything else was a minor detail.

She turned her head to look straight into Brittany's eyes. The movement and the knife pressure left a trail of blood on her neck but that was the least of Santana's worries.

She didn't do anything else, just stared into those wonderful blue eyes. They mesmerized her, the light from the fish tank only making them shine brighter. Santana wondered why they had to come to this. It took their falling apart for the questions that had once clouded her mind to become clear.

Did she still love Brittany? Yes, with all her heart. Did Brittany have reason to fear her if she told the truth? Yes. But would she have loved Brittany any less? No. Did she want to work things out with Brittany? Yes. Did she want to take a break? No.

"Brittany, I don't… I can't…" Santana swallowed. Brittany continued to stare at her with a sort of sadness and resignation.

Santana took her chance. She flipped them around, slipping the knife out of Brittany's hand in the process. It clattered to the floor

She used her whole body to press into Brittany.

"I understand Santana…It's alright…" Brittany's eyes began to water. Of course she was asking too much. She always knew that once Santana was confronted, she would run and hide behind her brick wall of fear.

"No, you don't." Santana panted, "I don't want to take a break and I can't wait for you Brittany…If I'm sure of anything right now, through this whole mess…I know I love you…and that is real. I can't wait..."

Santana didn't finish her sentence. Right now she had the urge to do one thing and it really couldn't wait.

She surged forward, capturing Brittany's lip in a moment of passion.

She moved against her desperately, missing her so much. It had been an intense week of fighting, misunderstandings, disagreements, pining, hurt and so much more.

"I want you so bad," Santana panted against the skin of Brittany's neck before joining their mouths again. This time Brittany reciprocated pulling Santana in even tighter. Santana's kiss infected her mind, she couldn't think of one reason to stop.

"Please don't make me wait…I want you." Santana withdrew to connect her eyes to Brittany's. "I won't be able to live without you…knowing you might decide you don't want me."

Brittany's hand came up to cup Santana's cheek and draw her slowly in. She left a delicate kiss to the plump lips that she was addicted to. "Sounds like something you decided," Brittany slipped her tongue out to pry Santana's mouth open hungrily.

It felt like forever but Santana wanted it to last beyond infinity. Brittany gripped the back of Santana's head and angled it so she could fully revisit Santana's mouth.

There were still so many things to say. Santana broke the kiss when they needed air.

"But it's a possibility that you won't want to be with me anymore. I can't let you go, you already broke my heart so many times baby…don't break it again please?"

Brittany pushed back into Santana, freeing them from the now sweat stained aquarium glass. "Talk later." She grabbed Santana under her butt and lifted her to straddle her waist. She caught Santana's lips roughly and kissed her hard.

"But I need to know Britt,..Owwww" Brittany blindly directed them to the kitchen but in her haste she knocked Santana's head against the wall.

"Sorry honey."

"About what? My head or my heart?" Santana was in pain but Brittany's mouth was so good, she could orgasm from just making out. Her hands held tightly to Brittany's hair, the only thing keeping her from soaring at the moment.

They made it to the kitchen with a few more bumps. Brittany's hands had now clawed Santana's pants half-way off her bottom.

"Both, I'm sorry Santana I don't know anything right now…My head is messed up…I don't have the answers. All I want is you on this counter…screaming my name." Brittany said while she cleared the marble top of condiments, knife-holder, bowls and decorations. Everything ended up on the ground in a loud shatter.

Brittany was crazy for Santana. The week apart had taken its toll.

Santana watched with heavy breath as Brittany got rid of everything in one swoop. Not long after Brittany had climbed on top of the counter, stalking towards her. Like an animal she hovered over her prey.

Santana had never been so turned on. Brittany's hair was a mess, her tank top ripped up and barely hanging off her shoulders, and her lips bruised.

When Brittany got to her, she wasted no time in ripping the button up blouse Santana was wearing. Santana didn't care, it was beyond ruined already. She did care that Brittany looked like she was ready to eat her up though…she anticipated what was to come.

The shirt was dropped on the floor when Brittany crashed their lips together. Blood flowed from her previously cracked lip but the taste of Brittany dominated.

Santana refused to submit and lie on her back. Her elbows were propping her up and giving her mouth a very good angle to work her tongue against Brittany's. One hand held Brittany's jaw in place while the other went down to work Brittany's pants off.

The room filled with heavy breathing and smacking of lips but Santana concentrated on pushing her hands past the layers of jeans and cotton underwear covering Brittany's core.

She let out a loud moan when Brittany unclasped her bra and palmed her breasts hard. Brittany was using teeth on Santana's neck, shoulders and chest. It really wasn't fair.

"Oh, fuck…uhhhhh," Brittany moved to her other breast, her tongue played with Santana's hard nipple. "You are so hot baby," Santana watched through half lidded eyes as Brittany ate her.

Remembering her goal, Santana began to wiggle her hand into Brittany's pants again. This time she hit gold. Brittany was creaming herself; she was so wet Santana's fingers slide right into her easily.

"Sannn…" Brittany whined the air hitting Santana's chest only turned her on even more. Brittany began to rock against Santana's hand desperately. Her hands grabbed for anything to help get Santana's pants off faster…she wasn't in the mood for patience. She caught hold of some kitchen scissors and sliced through the leather and silk until nothing was in her way.

"Damn…Those were my favorite underwear Britt." Santana said before continuing to suck hard on Brittany's pulse point.

"The black and red ones?" Brittany drove three fingers into Santana. She screamed.

"Oh god…Brittany…yeah those ones."

"That's sucks they were my favorite too," Brittany replied but the underwear wasn't really a priority at the moment.

Using her whole body, Brittany pushed in and out of Santana. She cried out with every slam.

Soon Santana wasn't even able to continue moving her fingers inside of Brittany. The power behind Brittany's thrusts sent all her control through the window.

Santana grabbed Brittany behind her neck and kissed her hard. Her other hand held tightly to the edge of the counter. Her grip was so tight; it was the only thing keeping them from toppling off.

Brittany was moving so hard and so fast Santana felt like she was tied to the front of a speeding motorcycle headed for the edge of a cliff.

"Don't stop. Britt you're going to make me come. So Hard. I can't…oh….ohhhhh…"

With the last hard thrust Santana felt herself fall off the cliff, literally. She's suspended in the air and screaming Brittany's name at the top of her lungs. They landed on the kitchen floor. For all Santana knows her back could be broken but she just experienced the most fantastic orgasm in her life.

She opens her eyes to see Brittany and a curtain of golden hair.

"You are amazing. Someone retrieve my heart, I think it fell out of my chest." Santana's chest pumped up and down fast. She lay there catching her breath.

"You are very funny for someone who practically squirted on my hand. But you're welcome." Brittany smirked.

That wouldn't do. Santana was going to wipe that smirk off Brittany's face for good. She raised herself up and supported herself on her elbows. She found Brittany's mouth and tongued Brittany masterfully till Brittany's head was spinning.

Santana took the opportunity to sit up fully. She began to push Brittany into scooting back, parting a sea of knives, spilt olive oil, sesame seed sauce, salt, and broken eggs till Brittany's back crashed into the dishwasher.

Santana found a knife and cut Brittany's jeans up.

"SO hot…" Brittany murmured as she watched Santana murder her pants. When there was nothing left between her and her goal, Santana threw the knife carelessly over her shoulder and lay flat on the kitchen floor.

"What are you doing…ohhh," Brittany moaned as Santana licked her. Brittany knew she wouldn't last long.

Santana was cradling Brittany's ass and making Brittany grind into her face with every thrust of her tongue. Brittany rode her hard and Santana loved it.

Brittany didn't want to come yet, she didn't want this to end. Brittany couldn't remember ever having sex with this much abandon or this much excitement.

"Come here," Brittany growled, not waiting for a verbal or physical response from Santana before dragging her up by the hair. They locked lips hard as Brittany positioned Santana the way she wanted her.

Santana followed the direction of Brittany's hands and found herself straddling Brittany. While kissing, Santana noticed Brittany's shirt and bra were covering what she now desired to suck and squeeze.

Santana broke the kiss to shred the remaining shirt and tore off the bra. She went immediately to suck at Brittany's inviting pink nipples.

Brittany let out a string of encouragements as she adjusted Santana on top of her. She spread her legs so their middles could meet.

She began to rock them, holding Santana's ass in place so she hit the right spot every time.

Santana palmed Brittany's breast, kissing upward till her lips connected with Brittany's once again.

It was hard to concentrate on kissing when they were grinding like this.

Santana began to get the rhythm and soon, Brittany's hands were free to roam.

Brittany's fingers dug into Santana's back as she experienced the incredible sensation with Santana. The sound of her sweating back slapping against the dishwasher was a turn on.

"Faster…oh yeah, yes… yes," Brittany cried as she felt her orgasm build. They were so sweaty and dirty and the kitchen floor was disgusting but Brittany loved having Santana like this, without a care in the world.

"Baby, you're going to make me come…"

Santana knew Brittany was close; she was near the point of no return herself. Santana moved faster, feeling every brush of Brittany's clit against hers.

"Tell me Brittany… Tell me you…uhh… uhhh," Santana was gripping Brittany's hair now with everything she had.

"I missed this so much," Brittany said and kissed Santana deeply. They resurfaced but somehow neither had come yet.

"No, tell me that …" Santana began to sob into Brittany's shoulder. She just had to hear those words…without them she would never know if they would be okay.

"Baby are you okay?" Brittany stopped all their movement. The air was heavy between them like a barrier keeping them from fully merging together.

"NO, I'm not okay Brittany," Santana continued to cry. Her tears ran down Brittany's skin. "I have to know you won't leave me…I'm so scared that you will. I shouldn't have pushed you away like that…but you have to know I was trying to protect you. I love you so much Brittany, I just have to know that you still feel the same way even though we lied and I hurt you."

"Oh, San…" Brittany stroked her wet hair and then kissed it. "I do love you. I have always loved you."

Hearing those words made Santana cry even more. Even though they'd say it every day, she knew this time Brittany meant it and it was real. After everything that had happened, Brittany still loved her.

"Thank you." Santana breathed. She felt as if a whole mountain was removed from her chest.

"Honey, I may have lied about a lot of things" Brittany whispered, "but never about my feelings for you. From the first day I met you and fell in love, to the day we got married and I promised I would love you forever, until now after everything - I know I could never love anyone else. You are my whole world Santana no matter what worlds we've been secretly living in…the only world important to me is the one that I'm with you."

With that confession, Santana broke down again.

When she had calmed down, they started to rock their hips together. This time it felt so much better.

Santana whispered words of love into Brittany's mouth until the moment they both came undone.

Santana collapsed in Brittany's arms, physically and emotionally spent. She moved off of Brittany and they both lay down on the floor feeling like they were on top of the world.

"We should move to the couch," Brittany said now starting to feel how cold the floor was. Santana agreed.

Brittany got up and carried Santana in her arms to their very ruined living room. Tomorrow they would cry over it together but now they were too tired. Brittany lay Santana down gently and then cuddled her from behind.

Santana missed hugging Brittany though so she turned over. They stayed like that, neither girl moving or saying a word. They held each other tight, silently promising to never let go.

Santana's head was resting under Brittany's chin. She fell asleep to the sound of Brittany's heart that was hers and was always hers from the beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>Story doesn't end here. There will probably be two more chapters and an epilogue unless someone gives me a great idea to continue the story.<strong>


	14. Chapter 13

**So I'm back with another chapter. I'm sorry for the long wait. **

**Thanks for all the reviews and the fabulous ideas for a sequel. I think I may consider it since I really love writing this story and it's all kinds of fun. So fingers crossed. **

**I hope you like this chapter ;P**

**WARNING: (you might die from the fluff) **

* * *

><p>Chapter 13<p>

A mighty clatter shattered Santana's restful sleep. She lifted her arms, feeling like something was missing.

Last night had ended better than she had imagined. She chuckled because anything was better than losing an arm, a leg or her life or possibly having to kill her wife. Now that was a thought.

Where was Brittany?

Santana remembered waking up in the middle of the night with Brittany dripping drool down her chest. Well, _now _who's the drooler? She stored that away, finally having ammo to get back at Brittany for accusing her of the same thing.

Santana checked to make sure that yep, a dried trail of saliva ran down the valley of her breast.

Wait. Back to Brittany.

Santana got up and cracked her back into place. She really should have warmed up before going for a tumble through the furniture. She cocked her head from side to side and moved her limbs to check that they still worked. Apart from some colorful bruises she was fine.

Satisfied that she hadn't suffered any disabling injuries, Santana hurried to where she thought the sound had come from.

"There you are! I know the couch isn't that great with the springs digging into your back but if you prefer sleeping on broken glass that's fine too."

Brittany lay flat on her back on the kitchen floor.

"Really Santana? You're going to stand there and goad over my giant fail?"

"No way," Santana leaned on the counter, "you are winning at life right now. I'd love to have a milk spa first thing in the morning." She couldn't help snorting.

Brittany rolled her eyes and made no effort to move. "I slipped on a banana and spilled milk all over myself. I didn't know slipping on banana peels happened in real life."

"Aww, don't be so grumpy baby." Santana tip toed around the glass and stretched her arm out to hoist her wife up.

"There we are. Good Morning." Santana beamed very happy to be nearly pressed against a naked Brittany this early in the day.

"Hi," Brittany leaned forward and Santana did the natural thing and kissed her.

"You taste like my coffee," Santana said as she pulled away.

"That's because I made us coffee and usually mine is the same as yours but with milk, too bad _that_ never made it in." Brittany looked down at her milk soaked body.

"You have milk dripping from your breast, like literally," Santana laughed, "It's a good thing I'm your baby."

"Why?"

Santana attacked Brittany's boobs with her mouth. Brittany gasped; she hadn't put two and two together yet.

"Oh," Brittany said half shocked and half aroused, finally understanding. The more Santana licked the more she moaned. Santana had a really talented tongue.

"I think I'm more horny than hungry now." Brittany moaned.

Santana continued to suck while looking up at Brittany. She released Brittany's breast with a pop and smirked knowing how crazy she drove her.

"Well then, why don't you have both?"

"Don't wiggle your eyebrows like that, it's a turn off." It didn't sound like Brittany was anywhere near the off button though.

Santana changed tactics and gave Brittany her naughtiest 'come hither' face.

"Better?"

"You're going to pay for all this teasing."

Brittany picked Santana up much like she had the night before. Santana wrapped her legs around Brittany's waist which may have been a mistake. Her whole exposed center rubbed directly against Brittany's tight abs. Both of them took a deep breath, Santana from the stimulation and Brittany from the feel of wet heat against her skin.

They both looked up from where they had been watching the place of connection.

"I see breakfast is ready." Brittany said coyly.

Santana pressed an open mouth kiss to Brittany's lips, "I so am."

* * *

><p>They had gone at it again and after the fourth or fifth orgasm Santana had passed out with Brittany falling asleep right behind her.<p>

This time Santana woke up first. The sun was up now so it was pretty bright outside of the closet.

Oh yes, they were actually in a closet. Brittany wanted to get pillows and Santana got mad that Brittany didn't think of it last night and they had to suffer the awful couch springs. Then Santana had attacked Brittany's lips again not caring for an explanation and well, they ended up joining the pillows instead of getting the pillows to join them.

Brittany was sleeping with her head tucked into Santana's shoulder. She looked so peaceful, exactly the way Santana felt.

It was a great morning after.

Santana kissed Brittany's forehead and let her eyes lids fall as she relished feeling close to Brittany again. She thought of all the crazy things that had happened to them in the last week.

For fucks sake, they nearly killed each other last night!

But now with Brittany lying in her arms like this, Santana knew she could never do it. She might have forgotten what they were all about, and no, the lies weren't a part of that. They were more than the secrets they kept from each other because what they had was genuine.

From the day she met Brittany, she knew she wanted to marry her. She knew it was a risk from the start but she had taken her chance and won the best damn thing in her life. There was no way she would lose her. Santana realized then that she'd give anything to preserve her life with Brittany. To hell with her job! She was done.

It was crazy of course. Now there would be a reward for her head and she had countless enemies who would do anything to see her dead.

Still she was stubborn and sure she could take care of Brittany anywhere their fugitive lives might take them. Besides, Brittany showed last night that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

It wasn't going to be an easy life but Santana knew it'd be worth it as long as Brittany was by her side.

"You drive me crazy, do you know that?" Santana whispered to the still sleeping Brittany. "I'm insane. You make me mad and I'm still crazy in love with you." She laughed to herself.

Brittany stirred but her eyes didn't open.

"Did you drug me San?" Brittany slurred.

Santana's eyes widened. "What Britt? No! Are you okay? I didn't…"

Brittany shook her head but smiled. "Are you sure?"

Santana nodded.

"Then how come I'm crazy in love with you too?"

"You are not allowed to be this cheesy while you look so beautiful just waking up baby." Santana rolled her eyes and ran her hands through soft golden locks. She watched Brittany's eyes flitter open, clear blue stared back at her.

"I am allowed to because I'm married." Brittany smiled.

"You're wife is the luckiest person on earth." Santana knew the level of cheesy coming out of her mouth was puke worthy. Fuck it though, she let her fingers slide in between Brittany's and raised their joined hands up to place an adoring kiss on each knuckle.

"I'm pretty lucky myself that my wife is worse than me." Brittany retorted.

They laughed at that till Santana brought Brittany down into a gentle kiss.

"I love you," Santana said a silly grin plastered to her face. "I've started to get a perspective on things, you know, where we could go from here."

"I love you too," Brittany giggled giving Santana a peck on the lips. "Tell me what you've been thinking."

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I think you were supposed to know that already at our wedding." A punishing finger wiggled its way under Santana's arm tickling her.

"I know, I know." Santana flipped them over so she was hovering above Brittany, pinning her down.

"But like I said, I had a new perspective. And by the rest of my life, I mean starting from now I want to let you have everything, every part of me. No more secrets. I want the kind of life where I know your friends and you know mine, where we cook dinner together and tell each other about everyday things that aren't important."

"And the important things?" Brittany asked, her fingers drawing elaborate patterns on Santana's rib cage. Santana had never experienced it before. In all their times together they had done everything from passionate to record breaking quickies but never pillow talk afterwards like this. They had lived so much in the present that they hadn't given much thought to the future.

Santana believed the future would happen on its own. There was never a plan because the day her biggest lie was revealed it would be over. They couldn't have a future when they were hiding their pasts from each other, but that had all changed.

"I want all the important things with you too."

"Can I tell you something?" Brittany asked shyly.

Santana drew in a deep breath. When people said that, it was usually something dramatic.

"Anything, but kiss me first."

Brittany lifted her head and placed her lips on Santana's. She sucked her top lip with no hurry.

Her head fell back to the pillows when she ran out of breath.

Santana didn't know why she needed that but it helped put her mind at ease. Maybe she was giving herself more time to prepare or she just needed to know if it was going to be a bad thing. A kiss could say a lot.

"What is it baby?" Santana steeled herself. She locked her eyes with Brittany's, ready to listen.

"I've wanted to bring this up for a long time," Brittany stroked Santana's back till Santana's breathing came more easily. "There just wasn't ever a right time. I couldn't ever see it happening and I'm not saying it has to be now but… "

"Hey, you can tell me." Santana stroked Brittany's cheek admiring the ting of pink coloring them. "With all this set up it sounds like something big. Do you want me to run for presidency so you can be first lady? Cause I'd totally do it."

That helped with Brittany's nerves as they both laughed.

"Maybe in another life," Brittany kissed the palm of Santana's hand. "I'm satisfied with being Mrs. Lopez right now...and maybe in the future we could have some Lopez juniors?"

Brittany bit her lip and held her breath.

"You mean, you want…"

Santana had really never thought about children. It's not that the topic never came up; Rachel wanted to have a mini me since forever and was very vocal about it during their visits, but in all 7 years of marriage Santana never thought of having kids with Brittany. Actually she never thought of having kids at all. Period.

"It's okay if you don't want any…" Brittany backtracked. She knew Santana and Santana didn't particularly like children but she thought maybe if they were talking about having some of their own Santana would be more receptive to the idea.

"I just, I want to have a family with you. Someday. In twenty years, or thirty." Brittany began to panic. Santana was unresponsive and looked like she was cringing. "You know, forget it. Maybe in another life."

Brittany moved to push Santana off of her but her wife remained steady.

"I'll still love you even if…"

Santana shut her up with a kiss.

"Baby listen," Santana withdrew her lips from Brittany's, "it sounds like a wonderful idea."

A smile crept on to Brittany's face, maybe there was hope after all.

"I was just imagining a little girl looking perfect like you but she had my scrunchy nose and puffy lips. She was the cutest thing in the world. I don't know why I never thought about having kids…but I want to…a family sounds really nice."

Several tears leaked from the corners of Brittany's eyes and Santana wiped them away. She felt like she could cry herself. This was real - her and Brittany and a little girl or boy someday.

"I'm sorry to break the moment but my neck is kind of sore," Brittany said.

"Of course," Santana got off of Brittany and did her best not to hit her head on anything in the closet. Brittany climbed out after her less gracefully.

"Owww," Brittany rubbed the spot on her forehead she'd banged against a shelf.

"I'll kiss it better," Santana strained to reach Brittany's head on her tip toes. "I hope our kids are tall like you."

The mention of 'kids' made Brittany's heart swell.

* * *

><p>Brittany hoped this would become normal. She would love to have many more mornings like this. Santana at the stove in a large Yankees T-Shirt, humming softly while flipping pancakes.<p>

The house was still a mess but Brittany didn't care. They would cry over each broken piece of furniture and decoration later. Now was time for 'celebratory pancakes' as Santana called them.

Santana presented her with a whole stack.

"How many did you make?" Brittany asked. She actually wanted to know how many because she was hungry and guessed she'd devour ten on her own.

"You count them while I get syrup, chocolate sauce, and rainbow sprinkle."

"Aren't you glad Quinn left all that in our fridge last time her oven broke down and used ours to bake?" Brittany made sure Santana heard her.

Santana had made a big deal of Quinn leaving her stuff around their house and made special note to say they had no need for the 'sweet junk' which they kept anyways.

"Nope, still waiting for her to clear her stuff out," Santana hollered with her head stuck in the fridge and ass sticking out. "Half our storage room is stuffed with her baking materials she got at that sale. I don't know how she put it all in there; I swear she'd win if she was on hoarders."

Santana walked back into the living room licking a finger covered in chocolate.

"Twenty-five pancakes." Brittany announced.

"Oh, half of them are raisin and the other is ham. Don't judge, I used whatever we had and they taste awesome." Santana sat down cross legged at the place their coffee table used to be. Brittany had put a few blankets down so they didn't get cut from any leftover shards of glass.

"Okay, I'll taste first _then_ judge."

Brittany squeezed a generous amount of syrup on her top pancake, rolled it up and took a bite. She saw Santana staring at her.

"Don't judge," she said mouth completely filled, "I'm starving."

"Sorry, didn't hear that. Did you just say my pancakes were the best you ever tasted?"

Santana made a show of patting herself on the shoulder.

"Nope, these pancakes suck," Brittany tried to sound harsh but it didn't come off very convincing when she took another huge bite.

Santana started to eat one of her own at a lesser speed and making less of a mess.

"You know, maybe we should redecorate the dining room Japanese style, with the floor cushions and low table. Oh, and bamboo plate mats." Santana looked really excited about it.

"Not feeling it." Brittany stopped eating and frowned, "I'm still mourning the loss of our glass coffee table with the built in DJ program and disco lights."

"I can always order another custom made." Santana squeezed Brittany's hand. Brittany really did love that table. There were so many nights they were too tired to go clubbing so Santana just brought the lights, music and bar to their house.

"At least our bar is still intact," Santana looked proudly at her oak wood creation.

A blast came through the front window and with a blink of an eye said bar was totaled.

* * *

><p>"NOOOOOO!"<p>

"Get down San, we're under attack."

Brittany pounced on her, smushing her against the floor. Santana was still shocked that her bar had disappeared in a matter of seconds.

"_Mrs. And Mrs. Lopez, come out with your hands behind your heads. You are both under arrest for threatening National security and aiding in terrorist activities."_

There was no doubt someone had turned them in.

"Dirty bastards," Santana swore loudly. Brittany cupped her hand around Santana's mouth hoping nobody had heard.

"San, we have to get out of here. Get your ammo and I'll get mine."

They darted to the opposite sides of the room, Santana to her fish tank and Brittany to her Starry Night painting.

"I knew it!" Santana spared a look, "That painting is always crooked, you should straighten up after you get your shit."

"Please as if I didn't know that cabinet is way too big for storing just fish food." Brittany shouted back.

"_This is your last chance, engaging in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1"_

Brittany and Santana dove to the floor just as heavy machine guns riddled their living room with sizzling bullets.

* * *

><p>"We have to wait for a break in fire, then head upstairs and escape through the window. They'll have the back door covered for sure."<p>

Brittany loaded her sniper rifle and stuffed her .75 semi-automatic into her…

"Damn it, we can't be running around in underwear!"

Santana had the same problem, not knowing where to stuff her .45 caliber hand gun while wielding her Heckler & Koch MP7 sub-machine gun.

"Upstairs," Santana shouted in Brittany's face above the sound of shooting. "Now!"

Brittany and Santana dashed up the stairs during the short break. They made it to the top floor as the shooting resumed. They heard someone kick down the front door and voices saying 'clear'.

"Jeans Santana, quick." Brittany watched the stairs as Santana threw clothes out of the cupboard. A pair of black skinny jeans hit her full in the face.

"Great aim," She said as she brought her gun into position in case any heads popped into range.

Santana finished dressing and traded places with Brittany. She was done in a minute and propped the window open.

"Come on!" Brittany was half on the roof, one leg dangling on the window sill when she remembered. "Wait, I need to get something!"

"Got it," Santana ran into the cupboard and hoisted a black back-pack over her shoulders.

Brittany helped Santana out on the roof of the garage.

"Hhhoooww ddiiddd yyouu knnowww," Brittany scooted quickly down the roof on her ass. Santana was right behind her.

Brittany opened up a part of the garage roof revealing a hole. She jumped through; Santana did the same and found herself on top of a large metal object.

They helped each other replace the roof and then jumped to the floor of the garage.

"So? How'd you know?"

"Oh," Santana unlocked the scrap of metal that was a great old Chevrolet. "I used to rob banks for a living till I was caught and forced to work for that crap agency in exchange for staying alive. I always know where the money's at, I can smell it."

"Smart dog, you could come in handy on a rainy day." Brittany jabbed and hopped into the passenger's seat, putting their heavy artillery and cash in the back seat.

Santana gave her a look that said _please._

"Okay, since I don't believe in God, you can pray this scrap of metal starts up or we're screwed." Santana put the key in the ignition and turned it roughly.

It hummed nicely.

"Damn, old Gramps still got it in him," Santana pulled down the clutch. "Pass on a thanks to the man upstairs for me."

"That wasn't God's doing," Brittany rolled her eyes, "While you've been playing with your pansies and petunia's I've been taking care of Gramps. He looks old on the outside but he's a boy fresh out of puberty on the inside. I replaced most of the parts."

"I always knew I didn't need a God when I had an awesome wife." Santana leaned over and pecked Brittany on the cheek just as the great garage door was pried open from the bottom.

She revved the engine, ready to flatten anyone who came through the gap.

Brittany pressed a button and a sun roof that didn't exist on a Chevy truck of any model slid open.

"Fancy," Santana commented and added a wolf whistle when Brittany stood on her seat. Brittany's ass was at her eye level and it had never looked better.

Brittany grabbed her sniper gun and set it up on the car's roof.

"Don't shoot, wait!" A man's voice echoed in the tin shed.

Santana recognized the voice.

"It's Puck, let him be," Santana tugged on Brittany's pants. Brittany kept her hand on the trigger but removed her eye from the viewer.

"If you didn't notice we were about to make a grand escape so hurry up," Santana shouted at Puck through her rolled down window.

"Alright, just so you know I have nothing to do with this."

"And yet you're wearing a police uniform," Santana scoffed.

"Who is he?" Brittany eyed the mohawked man wearily.

"The rotten apple," Santana turned back to Puck, "I don't have all day, get on with it."

"I was undercover but I didn't turn you in!"

"Got it, if that's all you have to say then bye." Santana began to roll her window back up.

"Wait, I want to help."

"Well you aren't genius; in about two seconds your friends are going to be swarming this shed."

"They've set up blockades on all the roads leading out of the city. Tell me which way you're headed and I'll have Mike go there. He'll let you through."

"Umm, I haven't thought of that yet. I'll call when I know." Santana shrugged her shoulder.

"Seriously! I'm giving you a free jail pass and you're going to gamble with it?"

The sounds of talking became louder outside the garage. They had to make a break now.

"I'll call okay? In a few minutes if I'm not already dead."

Puck let out a frustrated sigh but nodded. "Don't say I didn't try to help you if Mike doesn't get to the blockade in time."

Santana winked and pulled her window up tight.

"You ready up there?" Santana revved the engine. Brittany leaned over the windshield and gave Santana a thumbs up. She had replaced her sniper gun with Santana's sub-machine gun.

"In that case, hold on!" Santana put the car on full speed and went straight for the garage door.

The men gathered outside were surprised to see the metal door of the garage lift and a huge truck coming out at them. They jumped aside into the shrubs and watched the out of date, light blue hunk of metal turn around the curb and zoom down the streets like a race car.

Santana felt completely free even though she could hear the sound of sirens not far behind.

She turned on the radio and her grandpa's favorite Elvis song came on.

"I may have left the radio untouched on purpose. I didn't feel comfortable meddling with old Gramps soul." Brittany ducked her head back inside to inform.

"I love you," Santana stretched up to kiss Brittany on the lips.

"How could you not?" Brittany winked and stood upright on the seat once again.

Santana smacked Brittany's butt because she felt like it and she totally could.

* * *

><p><strong>The Mrs. Lopezs' still have some things to finish up.<strong>

**Tell me what you'd like to see happen before the end of the story. **


	15. Chapter 14

**Here's another chapter. I'm trying to wrap up the story but as it turns out it may be longer than I intended. **

**Thanks for staying faithful even through the long waits. **

* * *

><p>Chapter 14<p>

Santana drove with the wind. The old truck with a sub-machine gun on top was out of place and quite a sight in deed. If that wasn't enough, a trail of wailing police cars followed, lights zipping in a haze of red and blue.

"We need a plan Britt, we're low on gas." Santana shouted above the whirring of the engine. Brittany ducked back into the car. "I'm contacting Quinn."

"Well, hurry! I can only go around the city once."

Brittany side eyed Santana, always impatient. "Quinn, we have a situation."

_By we and situation I'm guessing you and Santana have fucked and fucked up._

"That's the easy way to put it."

"Tell Quinn to stop being nosey and hang up if she isn't going to help us escape these bastards." Santana shouted, taking a sharp turn into an alley. It was narrow and if any other car were coming from the other direction, it'd be destroyed by the sheer bulk and speed of the Chevy.

"Here, take this," Brittany threw the phone at Santana. She barely caught it and smashed it to her ear.

"Where are you going? Shut up for a second Quinn! Everything is so loud just...hold on."

Santana looked up at her windshield, a police car stopped and two policemen got out.

"Britt! A little help ahead."

The Chevy was strong but in no way was it bullet proof, unless Brittany had that taken care of too. In that case, this car was fucking ready to go to war.

On top Brittany had taken out three police cars. She faintly heard Santana telling her to look ahead. In a split second she saw the policemen, guns ready and fingers steadying on their triggers.

Brittany swung the heavy machine gun around and let loose a hailstorm of bullets. The first two policemen slumped immediately. Ahead, she saw three more reinforcements.

Her hand remained strong, as Santana ran through the blocking police car and left a wreckage of metal.

It was a narrow escape but they had made it.

"You okay Britt?"

A loud wailing that sounded sort of like her name came through the speaker. Santana remembered that Quinn was still on the line.

"You're what? I can't fucking hear you!"

The phone is squished between her shoulder and right ear as Santana swerves between the cars on the highway. There aren't any police hot on their tails but it won't be long till they're spotted and a legion of motorcycles come after them.

She has to get them as far away as possible.

Brittany ducks back into the car, sub – machine gun cradled against her chest.

"Give me the phone, both of you shouting isn't going to do much good." Santana hands it over gladly.

Ahead, Santana can see the traffic slow and cars begin to crawl. She looks for an alternative route, eyes landing on an exit. From what she can remember, it leads to a tunnel. It would do them good to hide until they know exactly where they should go.

"Hows the plan coming Britt?" Santana cuts sharply in front of a Mercedes Benz in the right lane. The driver honks loudly, opening the window to cuss at her.

"Quinn's going to fly around Brooklyn and see where is best for her to pick us up."

"Flying huh? I see you've got friends in high places."

"She's you're friend too Santana. And she won't be in high places for long if she's discovered helping us. The boss doesn't have any mercy. One day I'm working for them and the next I'm on their list."

"I suppose that's my fault?"

Brittany gives Santana a pointed look. That was fight they didn't need to pick.

"I was joking baby,"

As Santana guessed, they soon approached a tunnel . She slowed down the vehicle, letting the other cars overtake them.

"So what now?"

The words were hardly out of Santana's mouth when the phone in Brittany's hand began to buzz.

"Let's see where Quinn is."

"Put it on speaker," Santana said.

"Hey Quinn, whatcha got for me?"

"You're in a pretty tight spot."

"Thanks for the memo, smartass as if I didn't know." Santana cut in.

"If Brittany wasn't dragged into this I think I would just leave you to work your own shit out right about now."

Brittany rolled her eyes. There was never a day that her wife and bestfriend didn't have some type of argument. "San, you're not helping."

Santana held back a retort. The light at the end of the tunnel was getting brighter and they did need to know which direction to go.

"Fine I'll shut up, but just know we don't have all day."

"Go on Quinn." Brittany took the phone off speaker so she could hear more clearly over the wind.

"Coney Island I think we can make it." She spared a glance at Santana and knew her mind was already ticking, thinking of the best and fastest way to their destination.

"How long do we have?" Santana asked. This was not a good day to be going to amusement park central. Saturday's were just the worst.

"She'll be there in fifteen," Brittany spoke to Santana as they cleared the tunnel, "she'll stay as long as she can but if we take too long we'll have to think of plan B."

"Great," Santana muttered under her breath, it would take a miracle to get there in time.

To get there, Santana had to get back on the road she'd exited. No doubt it would be jam packed.

"We can't…"

"I know," Brittany typed quickly on her phone.

"GPS isn't going to help Britt!" Santana said as they reached an intersection.

"I'm not on GPS, I'm on wikipedia and I have an idea."

"Really Britt? Wikipedia is going to help us?"

"Ummm, yeah." Brittany widened her eyes. "We're going to Coney Island Stillwell Avenue."

"That is genuis Britt but what about the truck and our guns?" Santana took a left turn.

"Carry them."

"Are you serious?" With Brittany, her ideas were either hit or miss, and this one was just crazy.

"Do I sound like I'm joking? We need protection and people in New York carry guns everywhere."

"Yeah, but not machine guns and sniper guns."

"Then tell me a better idea."

Santana couldn't think of one and they were nearing the station.

"Fine, but if anyone asks, you're doing the explaining."

"Gees, instead of thanking me you make it sound like I came up with a shit plan."

Santana had a slew of words on the tip of her tongue when the sound of powerful motorcycles alerted her. She looked into her side mirrors and sure enough a whole legion of police was following them.

"Shit Brittany, what do we do?"

"Keep going, I'll try and delay them."

Brittany popped her head back through the roof. The motorbikes were getting closer and with her binoculars, she could see that they were all armed. If they got close enough they could shoot. Good thing they didn't have any heavy artillary.

"San, we're going to have to speed up, I'll only be able to hold them off for a little bit. I can tell there's reinforcements coming soon."

"How many are there?" Santana cut into the right lane and back into the left, dodging the cars as if she were playing Need for Speed.

"Fifteen,"

Santana did her best to weave her way forward until she saw a barracade ahead, looming like a giant firey sword blocking them from entering the Garden of Eden.

"Shit Brittany, phone!"

It was too late, there was no way Mike could get there in time to help them.

"Left ass," Brittany shouted, getting back to her job. She'd already shot down five police but if the way they were headed, they'd be trapped.

Santana dug into Brittany's back pocket anyways, there was nothing she could do to get around the check point. To make matters worse, some people began to roll their windows down and complain about her driving. What sealed their fate was the driver of the car currently passing the check point wagging his finger in their direction.

"Time to ditch Britt," Santana said while still dialing Puck. She grabbed Brittany's sniper rifle and jumped out of the car.

Brittany had seen their situation coming and fired a few more shots before hoisting the machine gun over her shoulder and jumping off the roof of the truck.

Everybody was on red alert, helping the police keep track of their whereabouts as they ran inbetween the cars. No one dared get in their way for fear of being shot.

"We got to get off this bridge!" Santana shouted. Somehow through all the vehicles, their hands linked and they held each other tightly, hoping to avoid getting separated in the crowd of cars, people, and policemen.

They reached the concrete side of the bridge and looked down. It was a good 250meter drop.

Brittany caught a policeman nearing them, their guns raised and ready to shoot.

"Now, we gotta jump San." Brittany began to climb on top of the concrete. Her arms ached from the constant vibration and kick of the machine gun which was heavy and now straining her shoulder. Beside her, Santana was struggling to lift her small frame up with the added weight of Brittany's sniper rifle.

Brittany dropped her hand down and Santana grabbed it. With great effort, Brittany helped pull Santana on top.

There was no time to catch their breaths, the policemen were closing in and taking aim. Brittany looked Santana in the eye and silently counted to three. It would be a terrible fall to the road below and if they survived that, they risked being run over by a car. But they had no choice.

Taking a gulp Brittany steadied herself mentally and looked below.

"Now," Santana shouted before Brittany was ready. She jumped, her hand attached to Brittany's caused Brittany to stumble off the bridge with her.

Brittany hadn't seen it but Santana had. A Ten wheeler was just passing below and their fall was shortened by the metal container absorbing the weight of their bodies.

They landed, trying their best to hold on.

Brittany wasn't prepared for the fall. Her shoulder made impact with the metal and she groaned.

Santana scrambled towards her and half dragged her to the end of the container. There was a ladder at the end where they both descended.

On the streets again, Santana thought fast of how they were getting to their destination. Brittany's hand was in hers as she backtracked through the crawling traffic.

"Hold on," Brittany panted. Every muscle ached and she really needed to rest.

"We can't…"

"Phones ringing."

Santana lead Brittany under the bridge to sit down on the side. Brittany was thankful for the small reprieve; she leaned her head against the cement and breathed deeply.

"Hello? Puck!" This was really what she needed, another option.

"Hey, I've been tracking your progress or shall I say lack of it. Mike is close by; he's driving a red sports car."

Santana rested the phone against her shoulder. "Do you see a red sports car Britt?"

They both looked left and right, straining to spot anything red amongst the million cars.

"There!" Brittany shouted and leapt up with joy. She waved enthusiastically hoping to get the drivers attention.

"We gotta make a dash for it. No doubt the policemen on top are watching for us."

Brittany nodded. "I think we should stick to the sides and stay low. You take right, I'll take left. It'll be less conspicuous that way.

"Okay, ready if you're ready." Santana said, shifting the gun on her shoulder to a more comfortable position.

"Go!"

Slowly Brittany and Santana crept through the traffic, keeping their heads down.

Many people were shocked to see two sweaty women with torn clothes and carrying weapons, crouched and waddling past their windows.

Whenever someone through the window made eye contact with Santana, they received a scowl and an inaudible 'mind your own business.' Brittany was all smiles and waving at kids through the glass.

They had made it half way when Helicopters began to circle above. Santana looked up quickly to count a dozen men being let down.

She knew she had to move faster if they she was going to escape being caught or shot. She hoped Brittany knew about the recent turn of events.

Leaving all safety to the wind, Santana ran as fast as she could towards the red sports car. She wasn't looking where she was going, only eying her destination.

Something hit her hard. Instantly, she grabbed a pocket knife and rolled over on top of the other body. A hand grabbed her wrist before she could bring the blade down to the person's throat.

"Britt?" Santana's breath was labored. She tried hard not to choke on her own saliva.

"Where'd you come from San?"

Santana rolled off of Brittany but stayed on the ground.

"I was running to the car and _you_ came out of nowhere."

"I'm pretty sure you were the one who ran into me because I had a clear path to the car."

Santana covered her eyes, shielding the sunlight. It wasn't the only thing bothering her. Why she and Brittany always fought over stupid things was something she didn't understand even now.

Now, when they were two seconds from getting shot or arrested – this whole teamwork thing needed improvement and fast if they were going to make it anywhere alive.

"Okay, okay my fault. We gotta get to the car. You go first and I'll cover your back."

Brittany nodded and got up on her knees, dusting her arms of dirt and dust. She crawled to the gun that had fallen away from her during the small misfortune with Santana. It would be fine, she shouldered it again. It was built for combat and a little busting up wouldn't hurt its abilities.

She turned to Santana, checking in if she was ready but was met with a frown.

"What?"

"The car is gone."

The simple statement made Brittany whip her head up. As Santana had said, there was not a red car in sight.

"Where'd it go?"

"Whatever, it's gone. Gotta think of something else."

Hiding behind dark tinted windows, Santana and Brittany peered through to check the location of their enemies. Several men were headed their way and behind them many more were following. It'd only be a short time before they were upon them.

The only other option was to keep scaling back and hope the men kept their pace. They were trying to be thorough. The helicopters had reported their general area so the men were opening car doors and trunks to make sure nobody was hiding the fugitives.

Two hundred meters away, an ensemble of policemen dismounted their bikes. It was clear Santana and Brittany were trapped, with men coming from both sides, they were sure to be caught.

That wasn't the thing running through Santana's mind though. Her eyes landed on something much more interesting.

Her plan was brilliant; they were going to beat these policemen. She now only had to tell Brittany.

"Britt," Santana shook her shoulder. Blue eyes attached to hers they were filled with mischief as if Brittany was thinking the very same thing as she was.

"I see a sweet ride." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Mama sees what she likes."

"Mama my ass, you're a skinny twig," Santana scoffed.

"Well, say that when you're eating my dust. Wait, you won't be able to cus your mouth will be full. BURN"

"Shut up, I've stolen you're bike more times than I can count."

"No wonder where all the scratches came from. It doesn't matter; I paid most things from your account."

"…Oh my god. And I thought Puck was the one milking my card." Santana gaped. "And the horse ranch thing, that was you…that was, tell me it wasn't you."

Brittany pursed her lips, "I think if you don't stop murmuring, you'll have a lot of time in jail to think of other things you'd like to blame me for."

"Britt, please I have to know," Santana whispered," because if that was you I'm getting a divorce." She threatened. "I mean that."

"Do you?" Brittany challenged. "What if you can't catch me?"

With that, Brittany began running again to the side of the road.

By now people were becoming annoyed with the constant patrolling and checking. It played well into Santana and Brittany's hands. The people were less willing to cooperate and some were even shouting at the policemen.

The chaos was doing wonders. While the police were distracted with calming the people down and threatening the ones who stood up to them, Santana and Brittany reached the line of park motorcycles.

So far things had been smooth sailing. Brittany only had three more cars to clear and she would be home free. As she went around the second car out of nowhere, a policeman stood right in her path, holding a sandwich and stuffing it in his mouth.

He tried to get words out but with bread and ham trapping the words, no sound was emitted. Once she recovered from the small shock, Brittany ran straight for the man who was going through the trouble of pulling the gun from its holster, the round of his belly obstructing his view. His hands trembled as Brittany came within two feet of him and in that instant he swallowed. Brittany stood there and watched his face turn red then green then blue. Would he really choke on his lunch? The wait felt like a million years and in that moment she saw behind the policeman that Santana had mounted a bike and was motioning for her to hurry. Then she took off.

The hoarse voice of the policeman broke her thoughts. He didn't choke and die, he survived his lunch.

"Over here!"

Every single policeman flipped his head in her direction. Brittany wished the lunch had finished him off because that man didn't need a megaphone; now twenty men were coming for her.

For the trouble, Brittany kicked the man at his knee and as he fell to the ground she let him roll off the hood of a car like a giant pumpkin. The owner of said car beeped his horn and came out to look at the damage.

He was pretty heavy Brittany thought as she reached a motorbike. She turned the key still stuck in the ignition and rode off. In the background, there was shouting about payment, insurance and dents.

Pushing the bike at full speed, Brittany decided she would take a few shortcuts to the land filling that attached Coney Island to Brooklyn. She didn't know where Santana was but that had been there plan so she knew wherever Santana decided to go, she'd end up at the same place.

Going in and out between the small streets was not difficult for Brittany. She'd been riding motorbikes for years and this one could not be compared to her own in power or speed. She made her way through back alleys, turning the sirens on to wail sending the cats scampering up the dumpsters.

The phone in her back pocket buzzed, she steered with one hand and answered with the other.

"Hey Quinn,"

"Britt, I'm waiting for you guys. I can't stay for long, there are government choppers everywhere. I can't be spotted."

"Shit, yeah I know. Fifteen minutes. If I don't call you then just go. Thanks."

Brittany made a sharp turn, digging her heel into the pavement to maneuver the bike. She righted it and twisted it through a narrow gap between a taxi and fancy, black, Buick.

Crossing the street she ditched the bike, throwing it in some Brooklyn concrete backyard with wilting plants and broken flower pots. With a quick hop, she scaled the wall and nimbly landed on the other side.

She'd made it to the station.

Looking left and right, she saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"How much for a ticket?" Brittany slapped a few crinkled bills onto the counter.

"I don't sell tickets darling," The black woman on the other side of the glass said.

"I'm trading them for coins, so how much?"

The woman took in an eyeful before shaking her head and counting out a few coins.

"What is it with the guns? Did Independence Day come early or sum'in?"

It all clicked. Santana surely passed through earlier.

"Was someone else carrying a gun?"

"It's not the gun darling, I've got one in ma purse but a hot tamale just ran past not two seconds ago with a gun I hope ain't real."

"Two seconds?" Brittany scraped the coins into her palm.

"Das what I said girl." The woman had no idea why Brittany was so interested.

"Thanks," Brittany ran towards the ticket machine and jammed the coins in as fast as she could. The ticket popped and Brittany was already in motion.

The door of the train was closing. Brittany pushed herself faster.

"Move, move, move!" She shouted, wondering why so many people were blocking the way in. There was no time for politeness. Brittany threw her body in the train smashing into a wall of people and knocking at least ten bodies over. She lost her balance, her fall was cushioned.

Murmuring came from under her along with some swear words.

"Sorry, sorry." Brittany said as she picked herself up and watched the doors click shut. She had made it and that's all that mattered.

Scouting the car she was in, she saw the reason why everybody was huddled together against the sides of the train.

"Santana, Santana!" Brittany stepped over a few people who hadn't gotten off the floor.

In the center of the train stood Santana, gun lazily resting on her hip, mouth popping gum.

"You know her?" An Indian man whispered behind her. "Ask her what she wants besides, gum, Starbucks coffee and my masala potato chips."

"Hey, who's talking? I said silence." Santana turned half-heartedly in Brittany's general direction.

"San, what are you doing?" Brittany shouldered her way to the front.

"Oh, it's just you." Santana waved off, "She's with me so she can talk, all the rest of you keep your pie holes shut."

"Is it true you stole that mans messiah chips?" Brittany crossed her arms and cocked her eyebrow, demanding an answer.

"You mean this?" Santana held up a blue chip bag. "Best thing I've tasted today."

"San, he's really sad you took his chips."

"Don't bother talking to the hostages Britt, you won't know the truth from the lies. It's rule number one from the how to take captives book."

Brittany lowered her shoulders and walked over to Santana, plopping down on one of the many vacant chairs.

"So, best thing you've ever tasted?"

"Yup," Santana held the bag of chips out to her, "I left some crumbs to feed the hostage that begs but you can have them."

Brittany dipped her index finger in and wiped out some crumbs. She put it in her mouth and sucked.

"Tastes like spice. I like it."

"See, I told you. We should ship Rachel to India and only let her come back when she brings us all the messiah chips from India."

"It is not messiah chips," the Indian man dared to step forward and speak, "it is masala! And you have no right to keep us here."

"No one is keeping you. This is a moving train, where are you gonna go?" Santana snapped back.

"I…"

He looked to an office lady standing next to him.

"He means what you're doing is not constitutional." She said. A murmur of agreements arose.

"Shut up," a loud voice said. Everyone stopped their grumblings; even Santana swallowed her words and looked towards Brittany, the source of said voice.

The office woman shrieked as Brittany pointed her gun at her. "The screaming too, shut it. I don't understand why people scream. They always die anyway."

The woman shrieked even louder, "Please don't kill us. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She hid her face in the Indian man's chest.

"Well, tough times do bring the strangest people together," Santana chuckled and relaxed.

She shared a knowing look with Brittany and they both laughed. No one dared laugh with them.

"I rather like this," Brittany stood behind Santana and whispered in her ear. "We could totally do a role play. Guns on a train beats snakes on a plane."

* * *

><p><strong>The end of the year is a really busy time for me but I'll try to keep writing as much as possible. Until next time<strong>


	16. Chapter 15

**I've been lousy updating I know, there's just so little time and so much to do. Thank you everyone for your reviews and sticking with this story even though the updates are few and far between. I'll try to do better.**

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><p>Chapter 15<p>

"What is going on?" It was Mr. She stole my chips again. If he thought he was whispering, well, nothing was discreet with him.

"I can hear you Sikh!" Santana was fed up with the constant disturbing. Brittany was finally telling her the terrible truth behind the horse ranch fiasco and there were just way too many people talking.

"That's racist San," Brittany stopped telling the story.

"Tell that to the doctor who thought I was related to Jennifer Lopez because we're both tanned, have phenomenal asses and share a last name.

"And people think people in America are educated." Someone shouted their agreement.

"I'll give everybody a little education with this baby here if you all don't shut up!" She was quickly approaching the end of her fuse.

"Brittany, tell me again how your 'romantic' get away backfired so bad I wanted to send my benefactor all the way to King Tut's grave,"

"It was supposed to be romantic San, I promise."

Brittany was met with a look of 'I'm not buying it'

"How do you call being flung into horse shit romantic?"

"Well who would have thought you could bitch a horse into distress. Oh right, because of your theory that animals have no feelings."

"If they did, they wouldn't be slaves to the human race."

"I'm sure they would tell someone if they spoke human language, I hear some actress has already heard the plea and has written to the Governor of New York about banning the use of horse drawn carriages in Central Park for human entertainment."

"That is so besides the point Brittany, and that actress happens to be Rachel 'horses are mans best friends' Berry."

"Oh so that's why I couldn't remember, most of the time I don't process what Rachel says."

"So what about the ranch!" Someone shouted. "Hurry, the stop is coming up."

Santana turned to see their 'hostages' sitting down and eager to hear the end of the tale. She cocked an eyebrow at Brittany.

Brittany began, "I thought Santana was getting really stressed about work so I 'accidently' used her card and sent her an email from her company telling her to meet an important client on the Horseshoe Ranch. It also came with an itinerary about what she was supposed to do there if the jockey didn't show up on the first day cause you know, these people have busy schedules practicing and competing around the world."

"Except there was not jockey,"

"No, there wasn't," Brittany frowned at Santana's not amused face.

"And long story short, Santana was supposed to have a wonderful vacation on the ranch. I booked horseback riding, rodeo shows, and refill jugs every night at the Horse-Barn bar, trail blazing trips, all the fun stuff."

"And I'm supposed to believe she loves me?" Santana spoke to the audience for support, except her gun waved in their faces as well and no one dared say a word. Instead, Santana got a crowd of nodders.

"If you had sent me to the beach with tickets to the spa and massage that would be a different story."

"But you've already been to those, and this was something you've never done before. You told me you loved new experiences."

"I said that so you'd go skinny dipping with me on our honey moon,"

"So you lied to me,"

"No," Santana chose her words carefully, "I said what I needed to so you'd come with me."

"But it wasn't the truth."

"It wasn't a lie,"

They both seemed to remain in deadlock over this point.

"This story sucks, there's no happily ever after." A little boy told his mommy who slapped her hand over his mouth hoping the two captors wouldn't hear.

"Why of course there is," Santana turned to the mother and son who looked like they were taking their last breaths, "Chill out, I'm not going to end your miserable lives _yet_."

"The happy ending as it is," Santana addressed her audience, "is that when I got back after sending plenty of death threats to the person I thought had shipped me to the devils dirty dungeon, I got to put my new found riding skills to good use with my wi…"

"She got promoted." Brittany cut Santana off before it was too late; their sex-capades weren't anybody else's business.

"And you know what the real happily ever after is?" They were approaching the station but the people were hanging on Brittany's words. "Even though our marriage is far from perfect, we're still together and I don't ever plan on leaving her."

The last part Brittany said to Santana, making sure she understood every word clearly.

"I love you too baby, even though I got a stomach ache from the nasty brew there."

"But I nursed you back to health,"

"literally,"

"No one needs to know _that_," The whispering continued till their lips attached and the real, real happily ever after was witnessed by everyone in the train.

A long 'awwwww' came from the audience along with empathetic clapping.

The Indian man wiped a tear from his eye and hugged the office lady.

At that moment, the doors opened and Brittany pulled Santana towards the door. They didn't have time for sentiments anymore, they were sure the entire NYPD were on their tails.

Their fellow passengers waved them off with 'good luck' and 'god bless'.

* * *

><p>Luna Park, Coney Island was filled with people; they couldn't have picked a better day to be hunted down. Well, if they had a choice, they wouldn't have chosen to be hunted at all but given the current situation, they were in a good position.<p>

Santana turned hurriedly, from left to right trying to find a place where they could easily be spotted by Quinn.

She soon found a small clearing near the shooting tent. How fitting, Santana thought, considering that was one of the things that had put them on the path to marriage.

"Britt, stay close so we don't get lost," She couldn't tell if Brittany replied with 'okay' or 'make way' but when she reached the spot she found herself surrounded with unfamiliar faces.

"Britt!" She shouted frantically, trying to see over the heads of the tourists but to no avail. She cursed her height, or lack of it.

Above, a helicopter whirred a phone was dropped in a mini-parachute along with a rope.

Santana punched the receive button, "Quinn, did you see Brittany!"

_I'm on the line with her, get up first and then we'll find a place to pick her up_

"Where is she?" Santana never stopped her search through the masses for a glimpse of blonde hair and dirty clothes.

_Just get on Santana, we'll pick her up somewhere_

"No, I have to find her Quinn, we can't leave her." Santana began pushing her way through the crowds, using her gun as a divider.

_Santana, you idiot block head, get up now before the police see you. They are scourging the grounds!_

"I can't leave Brittany to the wolves Quinn; someone needs to help her if they're on her trail"

_Brittany says for you to stop being an asshole to me and listen_

"Brittany can save her insults for when we're in bed where I like them most. Right now I need to know where she is."

_And I didn't need to hear that_ Quinn grumbled. _She says she's near the carousal. _

"Got it, hang in there Quinn. Ten minutes I promise, I'm going to get Brittany and bring her to the clearing."

Santana ran as fast as she could in between lines of people waiting to go on rides. She held tightly to her gun resting over her shoulder with one hand, the other clutched the phone she hadn't hung up.

All the colors blurred into a white haze as she pushed harder in the direction of the carousal using her in built GPS, her memory of when she visited as a kid with her parents. Impatience really was her vise and it always got her into more bad then good.

Her life seemed to go in that general direction when white turned to black and then she was falling. The next time she felt herself was when her butt hit the ground sharply. She looked above her and at first saw only a blanket of sunlight. She blinked once and she saw a shadow, another blink and the haze was a little less. Santana began to make out the large shape of what was certainly a man – a man in black.

Her tired brain made the connection a little faster this time as she sprung up on her heels. What felt like a few hours was only a few seconds. The world wasn't spinning anymore and the hand coming to grab her wasn't in slow motion. She saw it coming nonetheless and dived to the side right into a popcorn stand.

The man behind the stand softened her fall as she got up and half stumbled half ran into the thick crowd. Soon the shouting began.

Santana was sure they were closing in on her now, not that she had anything to go on except her exhausted lungs and dragging feet. The heat was not doing her any favors either.

People were barking at her and yelling for her to get in line or leave them alone. Santana retaliated to none of them; her mission was to lead the trail as far away from Brittany as possible.

"Quinn," Santana's breath was dry and she let out an ugly string of coughs as the dust in her throat had settled. "Get Brittany, I'll keep them away. Please do it for me."

_Santana, you two really need to stop this game of trying to save the other person._

"What do you mean Quinn?" Santana wasn't processing anything that didn't have a neon light attached to it.

_I mean that Brittany won't leave without you; I can't stay for much longer I can see reinforcements headed out to the island. I have to be gone before they get here._

"Get Brittany," was the only thing Santana could say, it was the only thing she could think about.

_And she keeps saying 'get Santana'; I can't with you two…_

Santana could almost see the eye roll in the back of her mind but she didn't have time to process it before once again smashing her face into someone and falling on her ass. She swore that this time she was going to die, just let all the people trample over her or hand her in to the police.

Strong hands came from behind and hoisted her back to her feet. She turned hoping that it wasn't the cops about to put her in hand-cuffs.

"Brittany? Thank heavens, I was looking for you." She said but she lost her footing and nearly went down again. Apparently she wasn't heading away from the carousal but towards it.

"San?"

Santana nodded hoping Brittany understood that she was fine. But her head felt heavy and Brittany's shoulder was readily available.

"San, hang on I'm going to get you out of here."

Slowly Brittany lowered them to the ground and let Santana rest her head on her lap while she talked to Quinn. Under the cover of people milling about, they weren't in immediate danger but it was only a matter of time before they were found.

"Hey, get me some water!" Brittany shouted. A young man in khaki shorts and a camera pointed to himself. Brittany scowled as if to say 'of course you' and he scampered off in search of refreshments.

_I can't Brittany, I don't know where you are_

"I didn't mean you," Brittany said into her phone, "Santana is sort of dehydrated, once she's back on her feet we'll work something out. Don't stick around if you can't."

_You know I'd love to stay for you but I'm holding on by the skin of my teeth right now._

"Get a car Quinn, as fast as you can. San and I will keep out of sight until you can pick us up."

_Okay, good thinking Britt. I'll be back ASAP, keep me on line._

Brittany dropped the phone into her pocket. She let out a heavy sigh and let her eyes wander around the park grounds.

"Here, you asked for this…I think."

"Took you long enough, did you run into Darth Vader?"

The boy seemed to catch on, "if you mean the Police then yes, but I didn't tell them where you are."

'Were you followed?" Brittany asked, looking past the boy into the crowds with suspicion.

"No, I'm sure," He didn't sound so sure because he looked behind him to check if any men in black were in sight.

"Good,"

Brittany ignored the boy standing awkwardly beside her as she brought the cup of water to Santana's lips.

"Drink baby," She whispered and wiped the sweat off her brow.

Santana may have been delirious but she knew when the rim of the plastic cup pressed against her lips. Between Brittany feeding and Santana drinking, a stream of water slipped off the corners of her mouth and trickled down her chin stopping when it got absorbed into her tank top.

Brittany watched Santana come back to life again. She pressed a kiss to the muddied dark skin of Santana's forehead.

"Feeling better?" She asked. She used the last drops of water pooling at the bottom of the plastic cup to cool Santana's face.

"Much better," Brittany smiled when Santana grinned at her.

"You think you can sit up?"

"I think so," Santana strained to lift her head. Brittany helped her till her back straightened.

Brittany looked at Santana's face for signs of faintness but was met with a scowl.

"Does your back hurt?"

"No," Santana shook her head violently as if to prove the point, "why is that person taking pictures of us."

Brittany whipped her head up to the young boy smiling sheepishly and slowly edging away. He must have just realized that being armed meant Santana could shoot his ass out into the universe.

"Oh, he's a friend," Brittany beamed at the boy, "why are you taking pictures."

"I've just never seen a cosplay, and I don't even know who you guys are supposed to be but your costumes are awesome."

"This is real life, not some charade of parading drama. I am not Rachel Berry, you hear me?"

"I wasn't going to guess Rachel Berry, I swear." The boy shrunk at Santana's glare.

"Good, I don't want to be associated with her more than I already am." Santana seemed to forget all about her weariness. She got up and dusted the part of her jeans that had been collecting dust from the ground.

"I just think you two are a really nice…nice looking couple…even with the uh, dirt and…"

"We don't have time for gay support right now but thanks comrade," Santana's attention was caught up elsewhere.

"Wait," The boy called for Brittany and Santana as they began to slip through the crowds of people again.

"Make it quick Rick," Santana crossed her arms.

"How…how did you know?"

"Please, you learn a thing or two playing I spy in the closet for so long. With that being said, good luck finding your man mate but me and my girl gotta get going."

"Thanks," Brittany hopped quickly to the boy and planted a kiss on his cheek, he blushed. "Oh and by the way you could be bisexual like me so don't worry if you're still confused about things. Like sometimes you might think a boy is cute but then his girlfriend is cute too, it used to happen to me all the time…"

"Yeah Britt," Santana gave the boy an apologetic smile, "Maybe you can teach the kid about sexual fluidity another time, we need to go."

"Sorry," Brittany hugged the boy, "Oh and don't give that photo to any Darth Vaders"

The boy readily nodded and watched Brittany skip off to join hands with Santana.

* * *

><p>Santana led Brittany behind one of the storage tents. To Brittany's delight there was a walk in freezer stocked with fruits and many other edibles. On each shelf was a label naming each to its owner.<p>

"Chocolate cake," Brittany bounced from heel to toe. She unwrapped the plastic covering and cut a piece with her pocket knife. "It's so good San, taste it."

It was good, Santana nodded in agreement and then she went on to sample the strawberry, the cheesecake, the tub mocha ice-cream and the rare guavas.

They had their fill of sweets and slumped against the cold metal bars of the shelves.

"How's the day turning out for you baby?" Santana held Brittany's hand to keep her still, all that sugar was making its round in her system and Santana knew right and well what happened when it reached the ends of her limbs.

"You know, we never came here before."

"uhuh," Santana closed her eyes and leaned against Brittany's shoulders. The air-conditioning was making her sleepy.

"We should go on rides; I want to do the rollercoaster."

"I hated that one, threw up when I got down and that was the last time I ever rode a rollercoaster."

"You've been here before?" Brittany's interest was perked.

"Uhuh," Santana snuggled further but was met with the cold, hard floor instead of Brittany's warm, fleshy arm.

She looked up Brittany now dancing, she sighed. The sugar had done its deed.

"Come on San, we can't waste the day!"

"Britt, but the air-con,"

"We can sit in the freezer at home once we get a new home and a new fridge!"

Santana wasn't going to win this one, Brittany was tap dancing, and nothing beat the tap dance.

"Okay, okay, but we still gotta be conspicuous."

"You're being racist again San and I won't allow it especially because it's against yourself."

"I wasn't…"

"I forgive you San, let's go!"

Nothing could dampen Brittany's excitement, not the heat or the nakedness of leaving their weapons behind in the freezer.

So far, there were no police in sight. Santana lead Brittany to the Soar'in Eagle, the one thing Santana couldn't stomach, but what Brittany wants Brittany gets – a lesson Santana learned long ago.

The line was very long and Santana didn't have the patience or energy to be waiting for an hour.

"Britt this way," Santana pulled Brittany out of line. Brittany pouted, the line was just moving and now they'd have to line up behind everyone again.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting us to the front of the line," Santana said as if it were no big deal. "Here, put this on." She grabbed a fancy fur coat right off the arm of a gentleman walking by.

Santana walked up to the ticket collector and turned on her charm.

"Hello there,"

"NO miss, you cannot use the staff bathroom, we're sorry that the visitors' bathroom is so far away."

"Bernie is it? I don't think you want to turn me down."

"I'm on duty sorry, don't want to be fired you know…doing stuff on the job."

Santana rolled her eyes, "now I know you really don't understand what this is about."

"I know exactly what this is Miss, I suggest you wait in line like everybody else." The man said as if it was something he had to say a hundred times a day.

"I'm pretty sure you are not allowed to turn down the future Duchess of the Netherlands, this is…Brianna."

Brittany tried to appear regal all the while staring at Santana in disbelief, only an insane person would believe that.

"You're real dense," Santana continued in rage, "I want to see your manager, I should really have you fired for tardiness and disrespect to her majesty. The bodyguards will hear of this and haul you off to do some terrible, terrible bodily damage…you can't even imagine…"

Santana turned to leave but then grubby, oil stained hand wrapped around her arm.

"Of course, anything for her majesty," 'Bernie' stuttered and nearly bowed to the floor as Brittany swept past head held high.

"Very wise," Santana whispered to him, "I'll need a pass for all the rides if you could just get me one."

"Anything," the man's eyes shifted, "but you'll keep the big fella's away from me won't you?"

"You mean those men in black? Brianna's bodyguards?" Santana emphasized.

The man nodded in fear.

"I'll tell them you cooperated." Santana winked and joined Brittany at the head of the line. They settled in when the previous round ended and a new one began.

As the 'Eagle' ascended into the air, Santana watched her prey scurry off for the main office for a day pass.

"Success," Santana leaned back sure everything would be okay with Bernie.

"I can't believe you did that,"

"Piece of cake baby," Santana leaned in for a kiss but before they could connect with Brittany's the 'Eagle' swooped down.

Brittany thoroughly enjoyed the curves and ups and downs while Santana hung onto her hand till she lost all feeling.

The ride ended and Santana stumbled off, held upright by Brittany.

They were met by a smiling Bernie.

"Your majesty," He bowed and swiped his hat off his bald head. Without looking up or at Brittany, he presented two day pass tickets.

"Thank you, Bernie was it?" Brittany spoke in a soft, melodic voice like royalty should. She let Bernie take her outstretched hand and kiss it.

"Indeed your majesty, Bernie is always at your service"

"And I will call on you if I need any more assistance," Brittany glided away leaving Bernie in a daze.

* * *

><p>They were headed right to the Brooklyn flyer when Santana spotted two policemen blocking their immediate path.<p>

"This way," Santana tugged Brittany around a refreshment stall until the coast was clear. The next half hour was spent dodging the police and riding everything Brittany had a fancy for. Santana sat through each one willingly because she didn't want to get separated from Brittany. All the while she held her phone in her pocket, occasionally bringing it to her ear and updating Quinn on what ride they were on.

Quinn was stuck in traffic for a good fifteen minutes but once she was free, she told them to prepare for their great escape.

"Okay, where do you want to meet up?" Quinn spoke with a freaked out Santana who could barely mold coherent words as her stomach flipped over. Oh she really hated the 'Slingshot'.

"There's a storage tent on the west wing," Santana said before screaming her head off, she gained her bearings again. "Sorry but I really hate this ride, see you there in ten." Scream. Santana didn't bother talking after that till they stepped off the flinging thing.

"Never again Britt," Santana caught her breath.

"Not even when we bring our kids?"

Those damn puppy dog eyes and the thought of her and Brittany's children made her give in.

"Fine, when and only when our kids are old enough."

Brittany smiled with so much happiness; Santana stopped walking for a minute to admire it. It was the smile she fell in love with.

"Hey you two!"

"Oh shit!" Santana snapped, "They've found us."

There was no place to run this time, they'd walked to the back where the storage tent was a few meters away but that meant not many people were in the area.

The two burly men closed the distance quickly. In an instant Santana and Brittany were back to back as if they'd been fighting together for years.

"Praying Mantis Britt," Santana steeled herself for the attack.

"Got your back baby," Brittany replied just as the first man struck at her head.

Brittany effectively slapped the fist away with her forearm and delivered a strong punch-push of her own directly into the man's chest. Santana held her assailant at arms distance blocking punch after punch and finally hitting him on the back of the neck with a back kick she didn't know she had in her.

Both men on the ground, Santana and Brittany dashed to the tent and ripped the freezer door open in unison. They scrambled for their weapons chilled and ready to serve.

The men lumbered to the tent knowing that the two women had gone into it. Together they stood in the doorway adjusting their eyes to the darker lighting. Simultaneously, the both found their faces buried in the dirt having been whacked hard across the knees. They wouldn't be walking in a while.

Santana and Brittany ran out of the tent to where Quinn put a borrowed truck in temporary park mode. Once they hopped on the back of the truck Quinn tore away.

By this time the other policemen had arrived on scene. But they came in time only to feel the dust whip the skin of their faces while Quinn, Santana, and Brittany escaped Coney Island.

"You girls owe me big," Quinn said into her phone. On the party line Brittany and Santana ignored her.

She heard Brittany call Santana her hero. "She's not the hero! I just saved your asses!"

When Quinn didn't get a response she glanced into the mirror only to find the two in the back involved in a heavy make-out session.

"Don't you dare do it in the back of Mike's car!" Quinn shouted.

Of course neither Brittany nor Santana heard that.

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><p><strong>Story still has a few chapters of life left. Thanks for reading and leave a comment if you feel like it. <strong>


	17. Chapter 16

**Back from the dead! No, life's been busy but I'm back permanently now. I just finished my other story so I'll devote all my time to this one. **

**This chapters longer than the others so enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 16<p>

"Wake up you sleepy heads," Quinn shook the entwined bodies in the back of the truck. She'd driven as far as she could till she felt they were safe. While driving she had received a call from Puck and Mike updating the situation. The three of them agreed that they should meet at the wooded hide-away not far in the direction Quinn was headed. Puck had given her directions the whole way.

It was at a rundown shed in the thick of the forest that Quinn parked.

"Where are we?" Brittany pushed off Santana who had still not woken.

"Some hideaway, we should get inside."

Quinn looked skywards paranoid that a police copter or plane might fly above them. It was her luck that the pick-up was a brownish-grey color and not very identifiable among the dirt and leaves.

"Get her to wake up; I'll scout out the place." She told Santana. She stepped away from the truck and crept gently a few times twigs snapped beneath her feet sending a shiver through her body. From what she could see, the shed was empty. Quinn approached the front door that swung from its hinges as if it had been roughly barged through.

Inside, she slid along the wall and took in the sight before her. The barn was completely empty and looked as if no one had entered for a long time. A thick layer of dust had gathered on the floor and other surfaces. There was a bar with smashed glass strewn around perhaps from a big fight. Either way, it was empty, dark, and cold.

Something or someone made a noise to the back of the shed. Quinn was startled and hastily backed up behind a pillar. No further noises came, but she knew something had come in. Her heart beat fast, she dared not ask for a name. If it was one of the boys, she would have nothing to worry about; but they would not be here so soon.

Resolving to be brave, Quinn peeked out from behind the wooden post. There was nobody but a breeze was causing the backdoor to sway. She closed her eyes and released a deep breath before stepping out. She was now in the open meaning that if the other person had a weapon, she was an easy target. On the floor there was a long piece of wood, broken off from the bottom of a chair. She picked it up to use as protection in case the other person had a knife.

Quinn decided to stall no longer. Obviously, she wasn't going to get shot otherwise she'd already be lying on the floor returned to the dust. Her walk was almost brisk. The first door to the left squealed as she pushed it open with the wood in her hand. There was nobody inside. She observed that the room was probably a sitting lounge for the better off thugs that probably owned the place. There was a lush couch stabbed in places sprouting the stuffing, a smashed television that would not have been worth much when it still functioned. In the corner were a few crates, large and small, but they were empty.

She backed out into the hall again when her foot stepped on something. "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH, What was that!

"Bitch you stepped on my foot and YOU are screaming?"

"Santana?"

"Duh, who else?"

"Well, why are you creeping up behind me?"

"Ummm, if I recall, you told me to get Britt and come in. That's exactly what I did. It's not my fault you're paranoid. Now do we have water or pizza in this dump?"

"Do you think I have any Santana? Demanding much?"

"Hey guys come here, I found a stash of…liquor."

Santana whipped her head around to look for where Brittany's voice could be coming from. There were two other doors that Quinn hadn't checked yet and one that unexpectedly slid open behind the bar counter.

"She's in there," Santana pointed to the gaping blackness that was the wooden wall. Stepping inside, Santana shivered. It was much cooler than outside. Her hands found shelves of metal that she used to guide her through the room. Her eyes soon adjusted. Brittany's blonde hair revealed her position on the far right of the room. She was going through a crate of glass bottles, probably liquor like she'd said. Quinn followed behind Santana till all three girls were huddled in the corner of the room.

"I was just in need of a drink. Which one do you suggest baby?" Although Santana had built the bar in their house, wines and liquor were more Brittany's forte. Santana was a cocktail gal. Brittany squinted over the dates of several bottles before handing one over to Santana.

"Stand back Fabray, you might get stabbed by an unfortunate piece of glass." Quinn heeded the warning very aware that Santana might make the glass fly her way on purpose. Santana smirked, satisfied. She flipped a knife out of her back pocket and cut off the top of the bottle in one strong lash. The liquid fizzled out the top of the jagged hole. Santana threw her head back and let the thick red wine fall into her mouth. "This is good baby." She handed the bottle to Brittany.

"It's quite nice," Brittany commented and took another hit. "So what do we do now?"

"We wait for the boys to get here; I hope for my sake, they bring food. I don't know how long I can stand Santana's murmuring." Quinn eyed the bottle in Brittany's hand that transferred back to Santana's hand.

"Want some Fabray?" Santana lifted one eyebrow. Without waiting for an answer, she threw the bottle to Quinn. She caught it awkwardly glad she'd gripped it around the bottom rather than the jagged neck. "Nice moves Quinn, now I'm semi comfortable leaving Brittany in your care if I'm not around. But who am I kidding? Brittany's probably saved your ass more times than the other way around."

Quinn flipped Santana's comment off. She checked the time; her fluorescent watch showed four pm; the boys should be joining them in around half-an-hour.

"So, what are we supposed to do?" Santana sunk to the floor. It was dusty, but not more than she already was.

"And I'd thought you'd had enough adventure for a day." Quinn joined her. Brittany decided to lay down on one of the empty shelves above the other two girls.

"Santana has very high stamina," Brittany said nonchalantly, "she can go days without food but she needs something to do. On the weekends we have sex marathons if we aren't out hiking or at the shooting range."

"You obviously never had high discretion Britt," Quinn had gotten accustomed to what she called 'Santana and Brittany's public TMI announcements'.

Fifteen minutes passed when Santana picked up the sound of an engine. "Is that them or is someone stealing our car Quinn?"

"Let's hope it's not the latter," Quinn grumbled, a little mad for not parking it in a more hidden location.

"Hey, Santana, Brittany, Quinn!" The voice of Puck rang through the empty room. The girls appeared back into the waning daylight.

"Took you long enough, is there food?" Santana got straight to the point.

"Chinese," Mike hefted a bag full of foam boxes.

"Was hoping for Pizza but Chinese will do." Puck led them all to the room with the ruined sofa and Mike set the food out on the table. They all sprung for the foam boxes. When everybody had filled their stomachs, the five agents began to discuss their situation. Mike had to light a few lanterns as the sun had set.

"You guys are wanted still, which means you're going to have to lay low."

"Not a problem, Britt and I actually need you guys to help with that."

"We want to leave the country and get a fresh start." Brittany shared a moment with Santana. Even though they were being hunted down, they felt free from the lives they led and the lies they kept from each other before.

"If that's what you two want then we'll do all we can to help," Puck said. "It won't be easy because your names are at the top of the list, but we're going to try."

"So what does that mean for us now?" Santana asked.

"This really isn't a secure hiding place," Quinn offered. "Tomorrow, we'll transport you to an underground holding that's just been finished. The boss won't know it's done till I tell him since I'm in charge of overseeing the operation. I could delay that for a while."

"Good," Mike said, "Puck and I will make sure you're stocked for a few weeks." "

"The plan is to direct the focus on that guy. Hopefully, everyone will be distracted for long enough to get you new identities and ship you out of the country. You'll be on your own from there."

"Sounds like a plan," Santana stood and stretched. Her stomach was full and heavy, her eyes drooped; the action of the day was finally having an effect on her. She wanted nothing more than to curl up beside her wife and sleep. "Well, I think I want to hit the sack. Wake me up when we're leaving tomorrow. Baby?" Santana put her hand out for Brittany to grasp. "I wonder if there will be a corner to snuggle in."

"We should all retire for the night, but we need to take shifts." Puck sorted out, "Mike and I will take the first shifts; we'll do three hours each. Then you girls sort out who will do the next one hour shift and so on; can't be too careful."

Everyone agreed then moved about trying to find a place to settle down. The other two rooms that went unchecked were a bathroom and a small bedroom. Santana and Brittany claimed the bedroom 'for obvious reasons' that to everyone else didn't seem obvious.

"You two are not having sex; that defeats the whole purpose of resting." Quinn complained.

"What, like you and Mike are any better. Or have you not gotten to that part yet?"

Quinn and Mike went red.

"You guys are totally getting it on, nothing to be ashamed about. Now we could argue all night or you can just give Britts and me the bed."

"And where am I supposed to sleep?"

"You could join us!" Brittany perked up, eager to be the one offering the solution. "That way Santana and I won't be able to do anything and you can't sleep with Mike!"

"Britt," Santana scolded for totally ruining her plan; the plan being to keep silent and christen the bed.

"Hey guys, a moment?" Puck held up his ringing phone. At once, Brittany, Santana, Quinn and Mike leaned in to see who was calling.

"It's an unidentifiable number," Santana recognized immediately. If it was either of their bosses, then they would be able to trace the call to their location so the option to accept the call was, well, unacceptable. "You can't pick it up, that phone is not secure."

"What are we going to do?" The room remained silent. The ringing kept on.

"We could trace the source, if only we had some hardware."

"The truck! I'll get my gear." Puck left the phone in Quinn's hand.

"Odd number," Brittany observed, "nothing I've ever seen before." Santana nodded in agreement. "That's the only thing that makes me think it's not the boss. The numbers I received were never this skewered."

"Give me the sim," Puck said when he got back and powered his hi-tech computer. Quinn complied, turning off the calling device and handing Puck the slim card. He slipped it into a special reading machine attached to a well-built computer. The computer scanned the latest call information and presented a coded screen with the location, type of calling device, name of owner and everything.

"Not from the office," Puck confirmed, "The calls from Massachusetts, it's being forwarded through a scrambling system so no one can trace the number. The owner's name is SPSY EKZMZFZM, also coded."

"Sorry to pop the bubble," Santana spoke up amongst the speculation of what the name could be, "but even if the call is safe to receive, our location could still be traced because WE don't have a secure line."

"Wrong, this baby has a built in. I'll run the sim into the program. If they call again we can talk without revealing our location."

"Forgot about that," Santana muttered, "always used the straight forward stuff to get the job done."

"Now we wait it out, it's got to be something to do with you guys or Flanagan." Puck pointed out, "otherwise, my phone wouldn't be ringing."

"Speaking of the devil, there's a line trying to connect!" Quinn gasped. All eyes were drawn to the screen. Without hesitation, Puck clicked 'receive call'.

"Let me do the talking guys," Puck said as the running green dots showed connection was being established. A crackle came through the speaker and then a low buzzing sound.

"Who's there?" Puck addressed first.

"You know who I am; the real question is who am I speaking to?" Immediately everyone in the room recognized the unmistakable thick Irish accent.

"What the F*ck is he calling us for?" Santana mouthed to Brittany. She shrugged in response.

"I won't give you my name, but we'll agree that I'm not on your side."

"Fair enough, all I care about is if you have access to the two assassins who are trying to kill me."

Puck hesitated on what to answer, "Contact can be established. What do you want with them?"

"I have a proposition," The voice sounded creepier by the second. "Those two have caused me so much trouble, and I'm afraid that will never stop. They thwarted my business just as it was about to be complete. Should I forgive them for it? I can't imagine you would."

"Umm, the proposition," Puck cleared his throat. The little confession was becoming a little embarrassing to listen to.

"Oh right, right. Of course my plans go further than the elimination of those two. Ultimately the people who sent them will have to pay as well; but first things first. I'd like to get them out of my way. I hear they are wanted for not being able to catch me."

"I won't waste my time listening to you if you don't have anything to tell me," Puck drove in hard.

"Fine, fine, here's the proposition. You tell those two bitches to hand themselves in and I won't harm their precious Broadway friend."

"Rachel?" Quinn gasped. Her voice would have carried through to the other side if Mike hadn't covered her mouth in time.

"You know which one?"

"No, I don't. You are going to have to be more specific on the details."

"Well, this is what I want. A public arrest of those two troublemakers and a confirmed death. If I'm not satisfied, Rachel Berry dies. They have two days before I make my move."

* * *

><p>The team found themselves suddenly awake after the call was disconnected.<p>

"There's no way around it," Puck ran his hand through his newly buzzed hair. "It's you two or Rachel Berry."

"There's always a way out!" Quinn paced the floor. "We can work around this."

"Look who knows if he even has Rachel, he could be bluffing." Santana added to the discussion. "I'm not giving myself up, no way. I'm sorry, I love Rachel but…maybe we should check the facts first."

"We could place an anonymous call to the police about Rachel's disappearance; if she really is then…we've really got to start thinking." Mike said.

"Yeah, we should make sure Rachel is actually in danger first."

"What are you guys saying" Quinn's voice rose above the rest, "We're just going to assume he's lying? What if he isn't? By the time we find out Rachel's status not only will it be cutting it close to the deadline or too late, but the police will be all over it."

"Which could work in our favor," Brittany stated.

"Or make him more desperate, he may even limit your time. He's holding all the cards, you can't fight that."

All five of them slumped into their seats. The night that had started with so much hope had spiraled down.

"Okay, let's look at this objectively." Puck produced a sheet of paper and a pen. "Let's assume that Flanagan is telling the truth. He has motive for getting back at Santana and Brittany."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Secondly, from his little foreword I could tell he was mostly afraid that Santana and Brittany would ruin him further. There's a chance we could negotiate with him if we confirmed Santana and Brittany would not interfere with his business ever again. That's off the table if he still wants revenge though."

"Having stated those points, if indeed we have to play his little game, what are some ways we could gain leverage or pull a move over him? With the limited time we have, what's the next alternative?"

"The code," Santana suggested, "If Brittany cracked it, could we find the location and rescue Rachel?" It wasn't the best idea but it was a possible one nonetheless.

"Okay, I'll write up that option." Puck jotted it down. "Other ideas?"

"There really are only two options," Quinn sighed, "save or sacrifice?"

"I was just thinking," Everybody turned their attention to Brittany who had been rather quiet the whole time. "We were talking about bluffing, if he can do it than we can do it. I'm not saying that he is but what if we staged our arrest?"

"Now that would be possible, except for the public element. It would basically mean handing you over to agency and then saving you before they put bullets through your head."

"A bit risky, but maybe worth a shot. Write it down Puck." He did as Mike said but looked unconvinced that the plan would work.

"So, we have two alternatives as of now." Puck informed. From the looks on his team's faces, they were tired and not able to think of anything else.

"I'd like to add to Brittany's idea," Santana sat up straight. "What if we actually staged the arrest? Look, Puck and Mike could easily pass as policemen with the right uniform. Public arrest means being arrested in public right? So we find some quiet street to act out the arrest. And have you ever seen those edited clips of the president singing call me maybe? I'm sure we could create a convincing news clip of the police chief announcing we've been caught. We could send it straight to Flanagan and arrange to get Rachel, problem solved." Santana caught her breath as she waited for the other's reactions.

"That actually sounds do-able, but maybe my mind hasn't seen the fault in that plan yet – it's late."Quinn finally spoke.

"Alright, so we've got three options so far. Why doesn't everyone sleep on it and we'll see how they sound tomorrow morning." Puck rolled up the paper and left to take first shift.

* * *

><p>The morning brought demands for coffee rather than any new ideas.<p>

"Anything we do at this point is risky," Santana ranted. "Why do I even have responsible feelings for Rachel Berry! I knew she was always going to be trouble."

"Santana, calm down," Brittany took her hand and made her sit on the couch. "You know Rory is just a boy who's whining that someone broke his toy castle right? Kids are easily tricked, and once he's been suitably satisfied he'll move on to something else. I'm not really concerned about Rachel right now."

"You're not?" The whole room practically shouted. Brittany was taken aback that they were all listening in to her private conversation with Santana.

"Quinn, do you remember when I played assistant to Jesse St. James? Well, I went through some of his notes and he seems to be suspicious about Rory's affection towards Rachel. I think Rory likes her."

"So you don't think he'll really hurt her?"

"No, I'm just saying that a lot of people like Rachel. Even Santana does but she won't admit it."

"I definitely won't" Santana replied stubbornly.

"Once the news is out that she's missing, lots of people are gonna be looking for her. That might make Rory press us even harder, but since we have a plan that won't be a problem, or he could just release her on public demand. Capturing a Broadway star is serious business, and then there's the possibility that he won't hurt her because he likes her too."

"So we're still going with the fake arrest plan?" Mike concluded.

"It's our best option," Puck looked around for any objections. "Well then, let's not waste anymore time. First order of the day, someone write a press release about Rachel Berry's kidnap. I can embed it into several popular websites; it should take off on its own from there. And we've got to get police uniforms."

* * *

><p>"Mike and Puck, you go get the uniforms. I'll look around for a location to film the arrest. Santana and Brittany," Quinn put on her 'stern mom' voice, "Stay here and use that make-up kit to paint some bruises or shit, I want you to look beaten up. I trust you two can keep your hands off each other for at least that long."<p>

"Wait, shouldn't one of us men stay and guard the girls?" Puck motioned to Mike. It was obvious he wasn't offering to baby-sit.

"Oh, please. Just because Chang is Asian and has killer abs doesn't mean he's anything out of a kung-fu film. I feel insulted. You don't think I can take care of myself? I mean, do I have to tell everyone how I beat the crap out of you in training?"

"She did?" Mike looked at Puck.

"I went soft on her once or twice." No one was buying his lie apparently. "Fine, let's just leave these ladies to fend for themselves. Come on Mike."

Quinn left as well, taking Mike's pick-up. "I don't care who get's lunch!" Santana ran after the two cars, "but I want Pizza and a friggin cold frappechino!"

It was mid afternoon, 3 o'clock to be precise, by the time both cars came rumbling through the wooden trail. Santana and Brittany were thoroughly saturated physically, although now Santana was hungrier than ever. They had done a non-stop sex marathon on the counter, on the sofa, in the bathroom, twice in the bedroom and in the liquor dungeon. Brittany had decided that rough sex would be the perfect way to get the 'rough and beaten' look and Santana couldn't have agreed more.

"Pizza," Puck announced and slammed a tall stack of boxes onto the table. He and Mike looked 'official' in their stolen police outfits.

"Is that a size too small Puckerman? You're boobs are showing," Santana said, nevertheless she had to agree with Quinn's leering eyes that a man in uniform was hot.

"Couldn't find a better fit," He said as he dug in. Santana didn't hear him, she was busy imagining Brittany in a police suit and trying to remember if they'd ever done a robber and police role-play. Nope, she thought, otherwise she would have remembered how exploding lava hot her woman had looked. She bit into her supreme cheese pizza with that thought in mind.

"You guys got nothing done," Quinn observed.

"Why, don't we like we've been torn apart and used as punching bags?" Brittany replied cheekily and with her mouth full.

"Uh, no. It looks like you two took advantage of having the place to yourselves and had sex."

"Rough sex," Santana corrected.

"Remind me why I'm helping you?"

"Because you're living vicariously through us since you and baker boy have a non-existent sex life," Santana cackled, the contents of her mouth on full display.

Quinn was too disgusted to answer; she grabbed a bacon topped pizza as consolation for just losing that round to Santana. "Once I get rid of you, I hope I never have to see you again."

"Don't worry Quinny, we'll bring the kids over for Christmas."

Instead of slapping Santana across the face she held her pizza so firmly, the cheese oozed through her fingers.

* * *

><p>Quinn led the way to the small town street she had found earlier. It was ambiguous enough to pass as any street in the greater area of New York City.<p>

"So, while Santana and Brittany were busy not being productive, do not insert joke about making lady babies, I set up a few low quality street camera's on these buildings."

"This is a cool walkie talkie," Puck fiddled with object when he was supposed to be clipping it to his belt. "We should invest in some for our next mission."

"Leaving the scene, remember?" Santana pointed to herself.

"Right,"

"Why don't you two quit playing around?" Quinn said exhausted of all patience. "The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can edit and sent this video to Ireland. Come on everyone, get in place and make this realistic."

Outside the cameras' view, Quinn watched Santana and Brittany walk casually down the street unawares. Out of the blue, shouting began followed by Mike and Puck appearing around the corner. The two officers quickly gaining on the unsuspecting couple and a great struggle ensued.

"Bitch, what was that for," Puck stumbled away from the fighting going on amongst the other three. Mike stopped to see if Puck was okay and was rewarded with a shove in the butt by Santana's boot. He ended up sprawled on the floor.

"Guy's, what the fuck!" Quinn screamed in frustration. Mike looked hurt that she didn't seem to care that he'd been kicked in the ass. "Maybe we should give the uniforms to Santana and Brittany, you two ladies can play their part."

"We had it under control until she brought out her super hulk punch," Puck whined, his hand covered his swollen eye.

"She said to make it realistic," Brittany defended herself.

"Yeah, who knew you two would suck so bad."

"Shut it Santana, we're gonna have to start again. I need twenty seconds of footage, is that too much to ask for?"

The four got into position again. "Go." Quinn signaled and prayed to God nobody would fuck up this time.

Once again, Santana and Brittany took the path and the two boys chased them. Santana who had caught wind and who had jogged ahead realized that realistically she would never leave Brittany. Turning around, she ran back the way she came at full speed. Brittany turned her head to see where she was going just as Santana descended on her crying 'I'll save you!" It was that moment Puck collided with the rolling bodies of Santana and Brittany, his foot caught on the mass and he went flying in the air landing two meters away.

"My back!" He groaned.

Mike looked confused as to whether he should capture the two girls or help Puck. All in all, it was another failed attempt.

Quinn sighed.

After three more tries, she was finally satisfied that the four wouldn't give her a better performance if they tried for the twelve-hundredth time. "You all take a break," she said as she packed up all her gear – not that she thought they needed it.

Back at the old hide-out, Quinn was putting the final touch on her fake newscast. "Guys, where are we supposed to send this anyways?" She asked. Puck scratched his head; Rory hadn't given them an address.

"We could try calling the number again."

"Good idea Britt," Puck set up his computer, powered it and dialed the last number.

"It's connecting," Santana got a peek at the screen from behind Brittany. Damn her short height, but no, she'd never give up Brittany's long legs for anything.

"Everyone can see that Santana, calm your tits."

Once the call connected, everybody held their breaths.

"Did you do as I told you?" the thick accent came through without a greeting. Rude.

"You missed the afternoon news I see," Puck answered haughtily. The ball was in their court now.

"I have been keeping track, I didn't see any news of arrest or death for that manner."

"Well, I happen to have a clip for you. Give me an address and I'll send it."

A meaningless addressed popped up on screen and Puck forwarded the clip. "Did you get it?"

"I'll be in touch,"

"No, hold on," Puck demanded, "Stay connected. Watch the video and then we'll talk."

The next ten minutes ticked by in silence. Rory must be watching the part where the screen was showing shots of Santana's and Brittany's bloody heads because a high-pitched gasp was heard. Yeah, Santana and Brittany had put the make-up to use per Quinn's request without making-out, a very difficult feat since Brittany wanted to know how it would feel like to make-out with a zombie.

Quinn held her breath wondering if Rory would buy into the fake arrest.

"I will release Rachel Berry tonight behind the theater." Rory finally said, "Meet me at midnight, and come alone."

"You better hold up your side of the deal man," Puck threatened before hanging up. "Well, we've got two hours to be there."

"Can't Puck and Mike pick Rachel up?" Santana murmured, she didn't see why they all had to go. "Hello, our lives are in danger too, shouldn't Britts and I be going to the secret hide-away place?"

"Talk about team spirit Santana, what if those people pull something on Puck? Mikes a nice guy but harmless against trained agents."

"Since when is Rachel more important than me?"

"That's not even the point Santana, you're so full of yourself."

"San," Brittany broke into the argument, "Our friends have been really helpful, we have to help them in time of need too."

Quinn smirked at how Brittany could so easily subdue Santana.

* * *

><p>The two cars were safely parked in the shadows by the time the second party came into the street headlights blasting. "Okay, I'm going to approach them first. Quinn, watch my back," Everybody heard Puck through their connected communication system. "Santana and Brittany, stay in the car. Mike make sure they don't get out unless our asses are in danger."<p>

"Like Mike's gonna stop us,"

"Santana can't you shut up for two seconds?"

"I'm keeping everyone entertained Fabray,"

"Now you both shut up," Puck said, "They're coming out of the car." He walked forward as three figures came towards him. "Let her walk," Puck commanded seeing Rachel in the middle of two men.

The men beside her made no move to release Rachel. As they got closer, Puck could make out the one on the left was Rory Flanagan himself. Fucking stupid.

"I have another message for your boss," Flanagan held onto Rachel. Her mouth was taped and her hands were bound behind her back.

"What should I tell them," Puck said bored at this back and forth game.

"Take him," Rory ordered and before Puck could say 'what the fuck' five men came out of nowhere. They descended on him all at once. He punched one of them in the stomach but was soon overpowered. He wormed helplessly on the ground as he avoided being handcuffed. It was difficult as all he could feel were the blows to his face and sides.

"No one likes a traitor," Rory Flanagan sighed pitifully watching the scene. Just before Puck blacked out oxygen filled his lungs again and he saw two bodies fly.

Santana was taking on two guys. With one kick to the goons, she sent the one in front of her crashing into the trio of Rory, Rachel and body guard. The assailant on her back was dealt with judo style. Santana slammed his body onto the pavement and dug her elbows into his sides. She finished him off with a shot to the head.

Quinn had taken care of another thug and the one Santana kicked didn't look like he could stand as he cowered, clutching his baby-making sac. This left two thugs, Rory, and the body guard. Brittany had somehow grabbed Rachel and taken her safely to the car.

A loud rumbling came from behind Santana, Brittany, Quinn, and Puck. They formed a blockade as Mike raced off with Rachel, safe and sound.

"Well, looks like it's just you guys left," Santana cocked her gun.

"You lied!" Rory cried, looking from Brittany to Santana.

"Too bad for you potato head."

There really wasn't any plan from this point forward so Santana took matters into her own hands. "You guys ready?" She said loud enough for only her team to hear.

"What are you planning to do?" Quinn barely finished speaking when Santana sent a blistering shot right at Rory. He jumped out of the way with a boyish squeal. Unfortunately, Santana had missed him but she effectively started a shooting war.

"You couldn't even hit the target?" Puck said in disbelief as he jumped behind a garbage deposit.

"Not the plan,"

"I know the plan! Let's go honey," Brittany ran to a door in the wall and stuck the butt of her gun into the rusty lock, it gave way.

"What? You do? What's the plan?" Puck and Quinn said in unison as they held fire long enough for Santana and Brittany to disappear into the building.

"Did those two ungrateful bitches just bail on us?" Quinn sighed.

Seeing Santana and Brittany leave their comrades, Rory ordered his three men to advance.

"They're getting closer,"

"We have to try for the car, we'll get in contact with those two later."

With no better alternative, Puck and Quinn made a dash for the vehicle. At first, all around them sparks and bullets narrowly missed them but then the firing stopped. Puck took a look over his shoulder to see that all three men were on the ground, shot in the back. From one of the balcony's Santana was descending like a queen gun blazing and a satisfied smirk permanently etched on her face. Further beyond, Brittany came out of another side door and was yanking Rory Flanagan out of his car by the hair. Thanks to Santana, the gas tank had leaked all the gas out and the car wouldn't start.

"That was the plan?" Puck asked breathlessly.

"Bitches get stuff done," Santana shrugged and winked at Brittany who was dragging the man-boy along.

"Now what are we going to do with you?"

* * *

><p><strong>Review and tell me how you liked it :) <strong>


	18. Chapter 17

**Happy Glee day! NOT **

**More action in this chapter. Sadako Mcfly was asking if they will ever tell their real stories to each other and the answer is yes, very soon.**

**Enjoy**

* * *

><p>Chapter 17<p>

Getting Rory Flanagan into the sleek sports car was tough, but that was nothing compared to being squished in the back seat with Brittany as well. Santana could barely breathe.

"Can you stop squirming like an earth worm?" Santana shoved Rory, who was sitting in between her and Brittany. They put a black cloth over his head so he couldn't see but that didn't stop him from shouting profanities and moving around. Twice, Santana had asked for a group consensus to knock him out for a few hours.

"Let me out!" He cried over and over.

Santana was a ticking bomb.

"We're almost to the hide out. Hold on a bit longer." Quinn tried to assure Santana her suffering wouldn't last much longer.

"Maybe we should switch places, this guys potato farm must be failing cus he has like no skin on him all I can feel is bone."

"We have a sheep farm," Rory argued back.

"Like that makes a difference, it's still a farm." Santana rolled her eyes, "And no one gave you permission to talk Irish. Shut up."

"Patience Santana," Brittany reached for Santana's hands across Rory. He was now effectively trapped as if he were wearing a safety belt.

"We should have at least stuffed his mouth." Santana grumbled but accepted her fate.

Santana insisted on handling Rory when they got back to the hideout. All her plans of finally being safe with Brittany were destroyed. She took it out on their captive.

"Hey be gentle," Rory said annoyed that Santana was pulling him by the collar. He was already having a hard time walking without seeing anything.

"Walk faster," Santana continued to pull. Inside, she pulled over a good sturdy chair and sat him down. His butt landed with a loud thud.

"You are going to pay for this!" He said as he was tied up to the chair.

"Never mind the whining baby, where's my food?"

"Remember, we didn't get any because the _baby_ got dragged along."

"Great, Britts let's get some alcohol." Brittany smiled empathetically at Santana. There wasn't much that could change Santana's mood, well except for sweet lady kisses and that might not be so appropriate at the moment.

When everybody had gotten something to drink, they sat in a semi circle facing Rory. They still hadn't removed the bag from over his head.

"So should we like, let him breathe?" Brittany wondered.

"We should let him die, Britt babe. Look at all the trouble he's caused us."

"Ugh, we need answers from him, and then we can decide if we want to kill him." Puck said, standing up and ripping the bag off Rory.

The boy squinted in the harsh lamp light. He did not have one trace of menace in his appearance but everybody knew better than to underestimate him.

"Alright, this is what we're going to do. We ask, you answer; straight and simple. If you irritate Santana in anyway, she'll give you a little knick with her knife wherever she wants. So you don't want to get on her bad side. Understand?" Puck smirked at Santana. Rory nodded his consent.

"First, what would it benefit you to hold me and Rachel Berry hostage?"

"Simple, with Rachel I should have gotten those two pain-in-the-arse's and with you I could black mail the big fish to leave me alone."

"That never would have happened. Both our agencies would stop at nothing to kill you no matter how many agents have to be sacrificed."

Rory shrugged at the information.

"I have a question," Santana stood up, knife playing dangerously on her fingertips, "What happens if you die tonight?"

"That will not happen; I see no need to speculate."

With a swift slice through the air, Santana left a shallow trail of blood flowing down Rory's forearm.

"I answered your question!"

"Wrong answer, now tell me. What is all this for? What happens to your business if you die tonight?"

The others in the room looked nervously at one another. They did not want to see Santana draw blood again.

"Fine, if I'm out of the picture, my Uncle wins. He gets everything, the oil shares will be sold and all my hard work will come to nothing."

"So why not kill your uncle?"

"His time is coming, but I have to deal with you pests crawling all over my business first!"

"And what is your business?" Santana questioned further.

"That's none of your business." Rory received a swat over his left cheek from Santana's knife. There remained a large bleeding gap under his eye. "It won't matter anyway once you're all dead." He sneered. "I was in talks with some big shareholders here about buying their shares of the world's largest oil manufacturing company; my deal was coming through just fine. I was going to get a lovely 20% of all shares of crude oil in the world. Add that to my other 20% and I have 40, the most amounts of shares out of everybody. But the deal was fragile and you people tipped the balance." He spat.

"That means some people in high places saw the potential disaster of one person holding so much of the oil shares that they wanted to get rid of you. And that's where we step in. It's not our fight against you but we have jobs to do, one of them being to eliminate you."

"Wait, where does Jesse St. James fit into all of this?" Brittany wondered. "Didn't your dad leave everything to you? Jesse wouldn't even be a threat."

"Ahhhh, so ignorant," Rory shook his head. He was awarded with a sharp poke and drag down the back of his neck.

"Don't call Brittany stupid ever asshole," Santana seethed. By now, blood was soaking his shirt and dripping off his body to the floor.

"Oh, he has a say alright," Rory said bitterly. "My dad gave my undeserving uncle half of the oil shares he owned, and he gave him the sheep farm."

"So you wanted Jesse's half of the shares because you were afraid he'd sell them."

"I have to get them before he even finds out he has rights over them."

"You mean Jesse St. James doesn't know what he's been given in your father's will?" Brittany spoke, surprised.

"I've kept that knowledge hidden from him. The moment he knows, he sells the shares for his next stupid Broadway project and maybe builds a retirement home on my father's sheep farm. See what a waste it will be?"

"Don't play the sympathy card, nobody cares," Santana rolled her eyes.

"You know, you're a very nice bunch to talk to. Since you're going to die anyways in the next 24 hours I might as well tell you my ultimate plans."

"Great, once you're done. I'll be putting this through your heart so your plans won't matter anyways. Amuse us."

Rory snickered. A person in his position should not be snickering. The blood running down his face gave him a powerful look, like someone who could sneer in the face of death because he knew he would escape it. It made everyone a little uneasy.

"Well, I was scoping out my uncle's fortune. That's why he's still alive and I'm still his golden boy. Little does he know that I'm cleaning him out behind his back; I was going to kill him myself when he had no more use to me."

Brittany and Quinn portrayed shock that someone could hate their own family so much.

"Surprising right?" Rory seemed able to read their minds. "My uncle has done nothing but ruin my family."

"He seems to be doing just fine. He's one of the most famous Broadway producers to date." Puck pointed out.

"Don't you see how selfish that is? He took half our family fortune to do what? Give himself the pleasure of watching men and woman sing and dance for him! And he gave nothing back to the family. When I was twelve, an epidemic hit the sheep farm. We lost almost all our sheep and had to rebuild the business again! And where was my gay uncle? I don't even know if he heard of what happened. It's not fair, after everything and my father still gives him more than he gave me! His son who helped the sheep business survive and was making the new oil business even more profitable."

"You sound psycho." Brittany concluded.

Rory glared at her but said no more. He stared at each person like they were obstacles, blocking him from his glorious goal.

"Well, what do we…" Puck never finished his sentence. A bullet came out of nowhere and hit him square on the chest. He stumbled backwards and lost his footing.

"Puck!" Santana screamed and fell immediately by his side. The rest jumped out of their seats, guns pulled and ready. They aimed at the shooter in the doorway.

"Wait!" Brittany shouted eyes wide in confusion. "Sugar?"

* * *

><p>"Sugar, you've come to save me!" Rory put on a charming smile and then changed it to a 'poor-me' look when he saw that she had taken in his bound and bleeding condition.<p>

"Sugar?" Santana looked up from the floor where Puck was sitting up as well. The bullet had been stopped by the vest he was still wearing.

Sugar stood unmoving and quite speechless in the doorway. Her gun was still raised in a frozen position. All eyes were on her.

"Well, where are my men. Where is the back-up! Take these people and get me out of here!" Rory threw a tantrum and rocked the chair off its balance. It tipped and lay sideways on the floor with him still attached to it.

"What are you doing Sugar?" Quinn and Brittany rushed to the girl and carefully removed the gun from her hands.

"I don't know whose side I'm on." She replied honestly.

"You're on our side of course!" Brittany spoke incredulously.

"No, she's my girl!" Rory wiggled trying to break free.

"Sugar?" Everyone waited for the girl to clear up the mystery.

"I'm a little dizzy I think I need to sit."

Quinn and Brittany lead her to a chair and handed her a cup of bubbly.

"Tell us everything Sugar, what is going on. Were you followed here?" The four surrounded the girl, trying to soothe her into talking.

"He called me to help him. I couldn't find him so I tracked him to the car. He wasn't there anymore but I saw the bodies. And I knew someone had captured him so I tracked his phone to here. Then I saw those two," she pointed at Puck and Santana, "She was going to kill him." "I couldn't let him die!"

"What the fuck?" Santana said completely lost. Apparently, Brittany and Quinn knew this Sugar girl very well. In fact, Santana recalled seeing her with them in the Dubai.

"Sugar, I don't even understand why you're in contact with Rory Flanagan. Are you undercover?"

"No," Sugar said and began to sob.

"Oh great, another cry baby." Santana rolled her eyes. "How is she even a trained agent?"

"Sugar is very capable of kicking bad-guy ass," Brittany replied seriously, "She's just a little emotionally fragile."

"None of this makes sense, you have to tell us what's going on," Brittany knelt down beside the distressed girl and stroked her hair.

"I can't tell you," she sniffled. "It's bad enough that he knows."

"Rory knows something about you? Is he using you through blackmail?"

"Yes," Sugar nodded.

"Double Asshole," Santana whipped her head around and directed the insult at Rory. Her face fell instantly. "Oh shit."

Everybody turned to look at the now empty chair lying on its side. "He's gone?" Puck said in disbelief. "I'm going after him, he's not armed." Puck didn't know how long he'd been gone but it couldn't have been over ten minutes.

"He's got a knife," Santana warned, "My knife." She realized that she must have dropped it when Puck had been hit and Rory had used it to get free somehow.

"I'm such an idiot," she fumed.

"No you're not honey," Brittany pulled her wife into a hug and kissed her gently on her forehead. "Puck will find him and bring him back, don't worry."

Santana smiled, she was still worried of course but some of it had dissolved with Brittany's reassuring words. Sugar on the other hand was still inconsolable.

"I'm sorry, but he knows things about me that I can't even tell you, my friends. I don't know how he found out."

"You know, if he found out then I bet we can too. Are you sure you don't want to tell us?"

"Now you're blackmailing me?" Sugar cried even more.

"Sorry," Quinn backtracked, "I didn't mean it like that. Of course if you don't want to tell us then it's fine. But I will look for something if it's keeping you in danger. Friends help each other Sugar, and I don't care what you've done in the past, I just want you to be okay and safe."

"But I didn't do anything, it's not my fault."

"Okay," Quinn held Sugar close. She turned to Brittany and Santana who were now clearly worried over what Sugar was hiding. "I think we should call it a night, I'll take care of Sugar. One of you can go help Puck, and one of you stay close by in case I need help."

"I'll go search for Rory with Puck," Santana said, feeling guilty that she had given Rory his instrument of escape.

"Hey," Brittany reached for Santana's arm before she could leave. "It's not your fault okay? I love you honey, stay safe."

Santana nodded and put her gun down momentarily to grip Brittany behind her neck. She drew her blonde haired goddess of a wife towards her and kissed her deeply. "I promise to stay safe, call for me if you need me." Brittany nodded and leaned in again for one more kiss.

"I love you." Santana said as she broke away. She checked that her gun was fully loaded and then left the cabin.

Brittany let her go with a sigh. "Okay, let's get her talking."

* * *

><p>Santana walked carefully into the darkness of the woods. She aimed the flashlight on top of her gun into the dense foliage which gave her vision a few meters ahead. All was still except for the rustling of leaves and twigs under her army boots.<p>

After walking in quite deep, she thought it might be good to get Puck's location so they didn't accidently bump into each other and shoot the other dead. She was just about to call out when her foot stepped into another footstep much bigger than hers. _It must be Pucks_. But then she looked around her and there were other boot prints of different sizes. _They can't all be his_.

It startled Santana so much that these fresh prints were everywhere. She was at lost what to do, but her mind was already telling her one thing. The cabin was not safe anymore; there were others in the area. Sooner than they wished, someone would find them. She thought next of Brittany, Quinn, and Sugar unsuspecting in the cabin. They had to know and they had to find Puck so they could leave.

In an instant she was running back the way she came as quickly and quietly as she could. The underbrush nicked at her bare arms but she didn't slow down. The light bobbed in front of her making it difficult to see the path but still she pressed on with the terrible image of Brittany being in danger in mind. She didn't see it coming till she rammed right into it.

For a second Santana was stunned, lying on her back. Her thoughts were not collecting fast enough. She'd run into something. A tree? A bear? An electricity pole? No, no, it couldn't be any of those things except maybe the bear and then, if it was, she'd probably be half eaten by now. The thing had moved straight into her path. She blinked a few times before her eyes adjusted to her surroundings.

"Santana," Somebody was calling her, it sounded distant. But the more she came to, the more she realized that the voice was directly above her and not loud at all.

"Puck?"

"Santana, you have to get up." Puck's eyes darted from side to side. Santana picked up on the rustling in the trees around them.

"Did you see them? The footprints?" Santana asked, suddenly alert and getting up.

"I saw the people," Puck confirmed, "and I think they saw me. That's why I was running. You ran right into me."

"Well, at least I didn't run into any of them. How many?" Santana dusted herself off.

"I saw, five. There could be more."

"Ugh, I'm not ready for round two. Can't this night give me a break? By the way, we have to get back to the girls and warn them."

"Too late," Puck said and slammed his back against Santana's. Around them seven men closed in, guns pointed.

"It's the police and you two are under arrest." A bulky man stepped forward. "Put your weapons down."

"Why are you arresting us," Santana said back to him.

"You are responsible for taking money illegally and for murder."

"Oh shit," Santana whispered to Puck, "They totally sold us out those assholes."

"I won't say it again, put your weapons down!"

"We can talk this out officer…" Puck bought some time as he tried to think of how to get them out of this sticky situation.

"Karofsky and yes we can talk this out at the precinct. Now this is your last chance to do as I've ordered or my men shoot."

"Okay, okay," Puck slowly put his weapon down; Taking extra long to lower it gently onto the ground.

"You too," Karofsky pointed to Santana was still struggling with the decision to drop or dash.

Suddenly Santana's phone began to ring. She pulled it out which apparently was not the right thing to do.

"Drop that! PUT IT ON THE GROUND!" Karofsky shouted at her, his face paling. She then realized why the men had become so afraid.

"What? It's just my mom calling." Santana snorted. The blue light of the screen cast an eerie glow in the dark forest.

"Really?" Karofsky said relieved. He wiped his brow.

"No shit, it's a bomb!"

The police started to simultaneously shout at her again. Puck took the opportunity to jump for the officer's feet and bundle him to the ground. The other police instantly pointed their gun at him but Karofsky was on top, shielding Puck. "Drop you're weapons or everybody get's blown." Santana ordered.

The small moment of indecision was perfect timing. Instantly, two men fell onto their knees clutching their hearts. The other men spun around looking at each other in wonder. What was happening?

Karofsky was still struggling on the ground with Puck. The distraction amongst the soldiers gave her the chance to kick the big oaf squarely in the balls.

"You're welcome," She smiled at Puck and then dashed to take cover behind some trees. Two more men had now fallen, leaving the struggling officer and two other police.

"What's happening, what's happening" one young man was repeating over and over. He was truly scared seeing the fate his mates had just met.

From behind a tree, Brittany landed a knock on his head using a rock. The young man passed out immediately. Santana took the other police out with the butt of her gun. The only one left was the burly officer.

"We'll let you go free." Puck breathed heavily as he talked to the wriggling man on the ground. "But you have to tell the government we aren't the ones they want. We're hired and, yes, breaking the law but there are bigger fish out there that you want to deal with. I'll give you some names in exchange for freedom. You don't come after us and if we meet again you let us off the hook.

Karofsky gave a sigh and nodded. Puck knew of course that he would not keep his promise but it was something he had to accept.

"Okay, first is Rory Flanagan. The FBI should be all over that, unless they want the American economy to crash land into the Rocky Mountains without warning. Secondly, William Shuester is my boss; he gives us all the assignments and should lead you to the real men on top of things. And one more name, Fabray."

Brittany gasped at hearing the name. Santana only winced. She knew it was a possibility but she had never said anything to Brittany or Quinn. He was just a suspect after all and they had no proof. But she and Puck had overheard the name several times connected to their 'rival' agency.

"Russel Fabray may be the biggest crime lord out there. He has several hundred assassins working for him."

"Is it true?" Brittany whispered to Santana. "Quinn's dad is our boss?"

"We don't know that for certain," Santana replied, "but it's highly possible. Our side has been throwing that name around a lot lately and not in a positive way. The higher ups must be getting into fights over territories and jobs."

"Come on girls," Puck motioned for them to follow him after he'd gathered all the weapons from the fallen policemen.

The moment Puck opened the cabin door, Quinn popped out from behind the counter gun trained and ready to shoot.

"Oh thank God, it's you guys. Brittany got an SOS and she went out to find you."

"She was our hero," Santana smiled sweetly and kissed Brittany on the lips. Puck and Quinn were used to the PDA and just ignored them.

"How's Sugar?" Puck popped a jack Daniels and took a huge gulp.

"She's calming down with Sudoku."

"That's supposed to help how?" Santana couldn't imagine number puzzles calming her down. She'd probably get frustrated and start ripping the book up.

"Oh it's super calming," Brittany confirmed. "Anyway's we need to leave Quinn."

"Why, what happened?"

"They know we're here."

"Whose they?"

"The police, and Rory escaped. He's going to cause a lot of trouble." Puck explained.

"We need to get to that hideout ASAP Quinn," Brittany said.

In no time, the five of them were once again squished into the car. Santana stole the keys from Puck so she could drive while Quinn sat next to her to give her directions. Sugar was still rather quiet but seemed to have gotten over her distress. She and Brittany played Sudoku in the backseat while Puck got some shut eye.

"Sugar," Brittany said quietly, "you know you can tell me anything right? You don't have to be afraid, we all love you." Sugar nodded but did not respond with anything else.

"Quinn, have you called Mike?" Santana said at random.

"I totally forgot!" Quinn fumbled to get her phone out of her pocket.

"Santana is totally worried about Rachel," Brittany teased. It made Santana crack into a smile when her wife spoke in a high sing-song voice. "I am not; I couldn't care less if Mike dumped her in the sewer."

"But you care a little bit."

"Only because she still has my Jimmy Cho shoes and hasn't returned them yet."

"Would you two stop arguing like an old married couple?" Quinn rolled her eyes as she waited for the phone to connect.

"We are a married couple," Santana replied.

"And we're hot, and always will be - even when we're old and wrinkly."

"Eww, I'm never going to be wrinkly Britt. You wouldn't want to have sex with me if I was."

"But I'd be wrinkly too so it's not like you're vagina will be any worse than mine."

"You two are disgusting," Quinn pretended to gag.

"Oh please keep talking; I'm getting hard thinking about it." Puck smirked even though his eyes were shut.

"And now you've ruined it." Santana felt the need to barf.

"Hey!" Quinn smiled as Mike picked up the receiver. "It's early I know, sorry if you were sleeping baby."

Santana mimicked Quinn with exaggerated facial expressions. She got Sugar to laugh.

"Okay, whatever you do don't get involved. I don't want you to get hurt. Get some sleep. I love you." Quinn hung up the phone and gave Santana a hard glare. "If you think we're bad, you and Brittany are three-hundred times worse."

"We're allowed to because we're Mrs. And Mrs. Lopez,"

"And we're hot and not wrinkly yet."

"Totally." Santana winked at Brittany through the mirror.

"So, how's Rachel…I mean Mike. Shut up."

Brittany giggled at Santana's slip up.

"They're good. Last night Mike dropped her off at her house and Rachel went to the media with everything. She'll have 24 hour protection, so don't worry about her."

"Good," Santana said annoyed, "and I was not worried about her."


	19. Chapter 18

**Not much progress plot wise in this chapter but I think you'll like the brittana interaction**

* * *

><p>Chapter 18<p>

Santana couldn't believe they were on planet earth. She had never seen an establishment like the one Quinn had directed her to. The place was in the middle of nowhere and looked like an alien spaceship had nearly buried its entire self into the core of the earth.

"This is supposed to be conspicuous? It's like a billionaires pad in the center of nothing. How has nobody discovered this yet?"

"Let's just say, this is the east coasts Area 51." Quinn flicked on her high powered flashlight and led the way to the opening. Santana, Brittany, and Puck followed, Sugar refused to get out of the car.

"So this is the alien project!" Brittany remembered that Quinn had once mentioned something about a holding place or refuge for agents.

"You mean you've got real aliens in there?"

"No, Puck. It's the name of the project."

The inside felt cold and empty although it was fully furnished. Santana could have sworn she had stepped into the pentagon or something. Everything was brand new. Nobody had sat in the lounge before, the flat screens had never been turned on, and the reception desk had not witnessed one business transaction.

Santana was busy exploring with Brittany by her side when the power came on. Quinn and Puck emerged from one of the rooms.

"Well girls, this will be home sweet home for now until we figure out how to dispose of your real selves. Feel free to test and use everything, it'll be good to know how functional the building is."

"Automatic coffee machine, sweet!"

"I need a cup before we leave," Puck placed a paper cup under the machine and pressed cappuccino.

"Where are you guys going?" Brittany asked having expected everybody to crash in this wonderfully strange place for the night.

"We have to take Sugar back."

"No," Santana said too quickly. "I mean, we didn't even talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about Santana, its Sugar's choice. She feels that Rory will expose her if she doesn't go back to him."

"So we're going to let him have her, just like that?"

"We don't have a choice," Puck sipped at his coffee solemnly. "Sugar won't tell us anything and she's scared."

"She's still in the car outside; I don't want to keep her waiting. You two sit tight and don't come out of this building whatever you do." Quinn started towards the door they had come in moments ago. Puck set down his depleted coffee cup and followed her.

"When will you guys be back?" Brittany called after them. She knew it was a question with only one answer but she wanted reassurance that her friends would be back and in one piece.

"Whenever we find a way for you to be permanently safe Britt," Quinn turned around just in time to receive a wholehearted hug from Brittany.

"Stay safe, and if you need help call us. We'll find you."

"Thanks Britt,"

Santana came up behind Brittany and pulled her body in for a hug as they watched the backlights disappear into a dusty trail.

"Are you tired baby?" She pressed soft kisses to Brittany's grimy back. They hadn't had a shower in two days and they both stunk.

"A little bit."

"Want to take a shower with me?" There was no hint of playfulness or tease in her voice.

"If we can find the shower," Brittany smiled at her and took her hand.

They decided to try the lower floors, hoping to find a room with a bathroom. The second level was a recreation area with every indoor court imaginable. They hit gold on the third level down.

"It looks like a hotel," Brittany commented as they walked past the many numbered rooms.

"Just pick one already Britt, I can't stand all this dirt for much longer. It's ruining my skin."

"Fine," Without looking what room number she'd picked, Brittany turned the handle and they both stumbled into the darkness.

Santana got the lights to turn on and was surprised how big the room was. The décor wasn't fancy but there was a lot of space.

"There's the shower, I miss water so much." Brittany pulled her ruined tank top over her head and undid her bra. The filth marks made her look funny, she laughed at her reflection in the mirror.

"Let me help," Brittany's hand on her jeans paused. Santana removed them, replacing them with her own hands and slowly slipped off her belt. She got a good view of Brittany's ass when she kneeled down to slide Brittany's jeans off. The look on her face might have been mistaken for one of a person deprived of sex. That wasn't the case because Santana had fucked Brittany several times yesterday. But her wife was hot and nobody could blame her for wanting Brittany all the damned time.

"Are you going to sit on the floor all day?" Brittany asked, "I know the view is glorious but you're making me desperate."

Santana thought hard about her next action. Brittany was disappointed that Santana left her to take her own clothes off.

Completely naked, Santana wrapped Brittany in a hug and kissed her neck. She exhaled deeply then stepped away into the shower area, turning on the warm water.

"That's it?" Brittany tried to curb her anticipation. She stepped into the shower behind Santana, feeling the water cascade over both their bodies.

"Britt, I was thinking."

"About what?"

"Sugar,"

"Did she turn you off?" Brittany resigned.

"It's not like that, I love making love to you." Santana turned to face Brittany, some of the black marks on her neck and face washed away. "Sugar didn't want people to know about her past, I realize it's something a lot of people want to hide."

"Including you and me," Brittany nodded. She understood what was bothering Santana. They knew each other's bodies in and out, but they didn't really know each other beyond the people they pretended to be.

"Britt, I love you. I would never change how we've ended up. I married you because I loved you then and I still do, so much. But there are so many things that I don't know, that you don't know." Santana's eyes probed Brittany's; she smiled knowing they had a mutual understanding.

"We'll talk it out." Brittany reassured her wife. They continued to shower in silence, the prospect of finally getting everything out in the open hung over them.

After drying off and rinsing their ruined clothes, Santana sat naked on one side of the bed while Brittany took the opposite.

"You're staring,"

"No I'm not," Santana gulped because she had. Sitting face to face, and having Brittany displaying her everything was not going to help the conversation get started. "Sorry, maybe I was a little bit."

"It's okay."

Santana took a deep breath, she didn't know where to start but as they say the beginning is always best.

"We were…."

"Santana…"

Both girls stopped talking.

"You go first." Santana said.

"It's just, whatever we say to each other, can we promise we won't make a decision based on our feelings until we've had time to think; at least until tomorrow morning? You can yell at me, I don't mind if you get mad, just don't..." Brittany looked down. She didn't want to say that sometimes the truth can destroy even the strongest foundations.

"Brittany, I won't break-up with you. We won't make any rash decisions, I promise."

"Okay," Brittany breathed a bit easier.

"So, as I was going to say, we met when we were 22. We've been married for 6 years."

"Seven,"

"Okay, seven."

"I guess I just want to know who Brittany Pierce was."

Brittany cracked a smile.

"What?"

"Nothing, It's funny to hear my maiden name," she shyly lifted her eyes to Santana. "I'm so used to being called Mrs. Lopez."

Santana nodded. One of the many things that won her over was that Brittany hadn't even hesitated to become Mrs. Lopez when she had asked. She could have said no and they'd be married anyways. It just showed how much Brittany loved her and was dedicated to her.

"So ummm, I was born in Arizona. I pretty much grew up in a normal home. I dropped out of high-school senior year. I wasn't so good at keeping up my grades but I loved numbers. I started programming when I was fifteen."

"Do your parents know about what you do for a living?"

"Not really, I mean, my parents think I'm a programmer for the government and that's enough for them."

"How did you get caught up in …all this," Santana waved her hand.

"Ummm, my brother and I…we were the same, not so smart. He was good at sports though."

"You have a brother? Why didn't you tell me?" Santana didn't believe Brittany would withhold something that big from her.

"Because he's been dead for ten years now Santana!" Brittany shouted.

"What, what happened?" A lump began to form in Santana's throat.

"High-school was hard for us dumb-blonds. Mace, he got in with the wrong crowd, he got me involved too." Brittany took on a far-away look. "When he realized his older sister was good at computers, he started asking for favors, you know, just to hack and get information."

"And you did it for him,"

"I did, because I loved him. Our parent's marriage was on the rocks and he was all I had, I was all he had. He loved me; we took care of each other." Brittany looked right at Santana; the other girl could see how much the loss of her brother had affected her. "I didn't know what he was up to but for my part I was having fun, no one would know I was doing cybercrimes and I was helping my brother. I guess he put me on that track. Other people started coming to me with jobs, and the pay was good. That's when I started doing it for a living. Mom and Dad divorced so Mace and I moved out, we lived together in an apartment in Brooklyn. It was a bad neighborhood, but most of our business was there and you got to live like them to be like them. We were always careful to save our money, I didn't mind living in a dump so long as my computers were safe. You can imagine my lifestyle back then." Brittany's grimace showed she wasn't proud of it.

"No, tell me." Santana had a pretty good idea already but she wanted to hear it from Brittany.

"There were a lot of drugs and boys and girls involved. I pretty much was on my computer or…"

"Fucking someone high,"

"I knew you'd judge me," Brittany swallowed.

"No, more like I relate to you."

"Well, it was bad. I knew I didn't like it when my head was clear but I couldn't do anything. Being high all the time and lost in the internet really helped."

"So how did your brother die?"

"It was outside our apartment one day. I can't believe it happened so easily. Someone came to our door; Mace went down to see him. They talked; I could see them from my window. Then the guy pulled out a gun and shot Mace, just like that. He fell down and …he was dead."

"I'm sorry you had to witness it."

"Well, I'm not." Brittany's eyes welled up. "If I hadn't been looking I wouldn't have gotten a picture of the guy's license plate. I wouldn't have gotten to take revenge."

"That was your first time killing someone," Santana stated.

"Yes, the first of many. It wasn't only that guy; it became the people who worked with him. I found a whole network of criminals, so many people who were conspiring against my brother. I just…I killed them all. And then killing became part of my job too."

"Brittany, it should have never happened that way." Santana crawled to Brittany and pulled her in. She caressed the top of Brittany's shaking head.

"It's fine," Brittany said when she had calmed down. "Maybe it was good for me. His death helped me to turn my life around. I moved to a better part of the city and worked alone. I weaned myself off the drugs; I made some better friends who didn't want just my body. I met Quinn and she helped me get into the agency. Although, I'm still deciding if that was a positive thing." Brittany laughed. "I got to meet you on one of the mission's so I guess I'm not complaining about it too much."

Santana smiled back at Brittany and laid a kiss to her temple. "Thanks for telling me all that, do you want to rest?"

Brittany hadn't realized how tired or drained she was until Santana asked. Her eyes were already closing as her head settled comfortably against her wife's chest. "Just for a bit, and we can talk some more." Brittany mumbled.

Making sure Brittany was under the covers on her side of the bed; Santana switched off all the lights and slid in next to her. She left a kiss on the lips of her wife. "So Brave," she whispered.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, beautiful." Santana set down a tray holding two coffees, a box of breadsticks and microwave spaghetti.<p>

"Woah, did you cook all this honey?" Brittany pulled Santana into a kiss, relishing the salty taste on her tongue. "You've started without me."

"You know I can't resist breadsticks Britt,"

The breadsticks and breakfast were shared in quiet. Once or twice, Santana caught Brittany staring at her with a playful grin.

"What,"

Brittany returned her inquiry with a sly smile.

"Seriously, sweetheart, stop looking at me like that."

"How am I looking at you?" Brittany shrugged as if she didn't know what she was doing to Santana.

"Like I either have tons of spaghetti sauce on my face or that you have something you're hiding from me."

"It's actually neither," Brittany put the tray of food aside.

"Hey, I wasn't done with my breadsticks!"

"You are done for now," In one swift move, Brittany pressed Santana flat against the bed and straddled her.

"Mmmm," Santana hummed, "I very much like you naked and on top of me."

"Uh huh, I thought so." Brittany began to place soft kisses all over the exposed parts of Santana's chest. "I was a little bit mad when I woke up and you weren't in bed," she moved to the valley between Santana's full breasts. "There are some things I'd like to do with you."

"Oh please do anything." Santana panted.

"You'll let me do anything with you?"

"Yeah Britt, just hurry, hey where are you going?" Santana yelled as she scrambled onto her knees. Brittany was already putting on her clothes had dried overnight.

"Exploring and you are coming with me,"

Santana's mouth dropped open, "no, come back to bed right now baby."

"Santana, you said I could do anything with you, and I want to go exploring."

"I thought you were going to do something _with me_." She motioned to her body, "as in sexual somethings."

Brittany crossed her arms and stood her ground. The smile on her face said she'd gotten Santana worked up on purpose only to leave her hanging. "So, are you coming or not? The way I see it is you don't have a choice, unless you want to go back on your word."

"You sweetheart are a master manipulator," Santana begrudgingly dragged herself off the bed and into some clothes. "I'm only doing this because I expect some payback."

Brittany led the way down the stairs to the fourth floor below the surface. There were more rooms on each floor they descended upon. They also found a gym, theater, gaming room, library, mini-bar, and swimming pool.

"I still can't believe this underground paradise exists. That Fabray guy must be rich as fuck."

"I don't like to think a relative of Quinn's is behind all this shady stuff." Brittany pouted as she plopped down on a lounging chair by the pool. "No one knows for sure, right?" Brittany probed Santana's eyes for confirmation.

"No," Santana sat next to Brittany, resting her head on her shoulder. "And I don't care who's behind all these killing missions as long as I get out of it with you."

"Santana?" she nodded, her hair rubbing against Brittany's skin. "You haven't told me your story yet."

"I'm not very good at storytelling." She deflected.

"Then will you answer my questions?" Santana lifted her head off Brittany and reclined comfortably. "Okay, now I'm ready. Let's play 20 questions."

Brittany exhaled and put on her thinking face. "Where were you born? And don't say Lima Heights Adjacent the wrong side of the tracks."

"And why not?" Santana raised an eyebrow, "I am actually from there."

"One point to Santana Lopez," Brittany watched Santana snicker as she thought of another question. "What did you want to be when you grew up?"

"I wanted to be rich,"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, that's how I got into the whole thug life, stealing things and getting into trouble."

"Why'd you want to be rich?" Brittany asked curiously.

"Because my dad was rich and I knew what it felt like to have everything. He left and then my mom was working two shifts, struggling to put food on the table. I vowed to make us rich again."

"And that's how you got into the program?"

"Not exactly, but it led me to make bolder and brasher decisions. Once I had some cash, I got addicted to gambling and I was good at it – too good. I got into the program because of a stupid decision. I was sure I had the winning hand but I got owned; I lost everything. Days after I was convinced something had gone wrong and that I had been cheated – I knew it. I went to confront the guy I'd lost to and got beaten for it, but not before I took down half his men. He was going to kill me then changed his mind and shipped me off to one of his mafia friends who I have been working for ever since."

"Wow, so you can play cards?"

"Do I sense a challenge Mrs. Lopez?"

"If you have a deck, I have an idea." Santana hoped this time Brittany wasn't teasing her because there was certainly something they could do with a deck of cards.

"Too bad there probably isn't one around here," Brittany's voice took on a tinge of sadness.

"If I find one, where will you be waiting for me?" Santana was on her feet right away. This was her chance to get back at Brittany for the sexual frustration she'd caused her that morning.

"I hear they have a lovely Sauna," Brittany winked.

"Fuck, where am I gonna find playing cards?" Santana ran to the only logical place, the mini-bar. She took all the drawers out and searched through them. They were fully stocked with everything related to a bar except for cards. "Come on, come on." She climbed onto the counter and checked all the overhead cupboards, plastic pitchers fell out, the toothpick umbrellas fell all over her head, and the salt nearly rolled out and smashed on the floor. Knowing it would take her forever to find the card's she ran up two floors and pushed open all the bedrooms having never checked which room number they had occupied. The thought of Brittany, sweaty and naked lying amongst swirls of heat spurred Santana to run faster.

She finally found the room and dumped her bag upside down, spilling all the contents onto the bed.

"Phone, found it," She announced pleased with herself. "Hi, Quinn!"

"Santana? Why are you calling? Is this an emergency?" Quinn sounded panicked over the phone. Santana forgot she was only supposed to call if they were in danger. Oh well, she figured potentially exploding from sexual frustration could very well be dangerous.

"Yes, I cannot find any playing cards in this billionaire's mansion."

"Are you serious right now?"

"I am totally serious, I need those playing cards."

"That is not an emergency!" Quinn screamed. Santana had to pull the phone away from her ear. "You know what an emergency is? Right now, the FBI, the crime lords, and the mafia are tossing a coin to see if they should kill you two or Rory Flanagan first.

"Did it come up heads or tails?"

"I wasn't being literal stump head; it's just that the situation does not look good right now. Puck is working with his contact on your fake passports, birth certificates and the shit; it's not easy. Also, we still have a problem with Sugar."

"What happened to her?" Santana asked worried. She didn't know Sugar too well but Brittany really liked her and so she cared by association.

"She's gone back to Rory. Puck and I are afraid he's going to use her to jeopardize the fragile situation. We should have never let her go back." Quinn sighed.

Santana still didn't quite understand the situation, "Why? What's Flanagan going to do with her?"

"We don't know yet. Anyways, there's a war on a lot of fronts here so I'd appreciate if you didn't call me when there is clearly no emergency."

"Fine, but I still need to know where the cards are."

Quinn growled through the receiver, "In the game room; don't bother me with anything else."

"Thanks, you should keep us updated. Bye Quinn, Britt's waiting." Santana didn't wait for a reply before she was on her feet again dashing for the game room.

"You are looking very festive," Brittany greeted her as she stumbled over her feet into the sauna.

"What are you…"

"The pink umbrellas in your hair," she giggled.

"Oh, that was an accident." Santana brushed the toothpicks of, "Are you ready?"

Brittany pulled Santana to the middle of the floor where she had set out some thick towels. "So what are the rules of the game?"

"I win and you take your clothes off," Santana smirked.

"Don't be so sure of yourself," Brittany took the cards and began to shuffle them, "Are you ready?"

"I was ready ten years ago,"

Brittany dealt them seven cards each and placed the stack in the middle.

"You gave me two extra cards, in strip poker it's five each." Santana returned two cards to the stack.

"We're not playing strip poker; it's strip go-fish."

"I have never heard of that in my life," Santana nearly snorted.

"If you're so good at cards, you'll be able to beat me at my game." Brittany winked.

"Fine." Santana glared at Brittany, "I am the world champion of all cards."

Half an hour later and Santana had lost her shirt and two socks.

"Yes! Fourth round goes to me baby!" Brittany waited patiently for Santana to remove another item of clothing.

"This game is pure luck and no skill," Santana murmured.

"Not true,"

"Whatever." Looking down at herself, Santana saw that she'd have to remove her pants or bra.

"Really? You dare take that off now?"

Santana stood firm and nodded, her fingers were already twisting her gold band. Brittany stared her down.

"I'm not ready to show off my goodies yet,"

"Santana Lopez, you are asking for trouble."

She fiddled with the ring, thinking about what taking it off would reflect on her character. Did Brittany really consider it a betrayal if she took it off, or a sign of unfaithfulness?

"Britt it's just a game." She tried to reason one more time. Brittany continued to pout. "Okay, I'll take off my pants. I love you too much to take off my wedding ring." Seeing Brittany smile again was reward enough. Santana wiggled out of her pants and sat down again. "I'm going to get you back Britt."

The next two rounds went to Santana. She watched Brittany strip with much amusement. In contrast to herself, Brittany immediately took off her shirt and pants leaving her in a bra, underwear, ring, watch and socks.

"Is this one of your distraction ploys? Because it's working."

"It's not my fault you have a one track mind with destination sex."

The next rounds were battled hard. Santana and Brittany lost one each. For Santana it was a hard choice between bra and underwear.

"If you don't strip in ten seconds I'm choosing, one, two, three…" Brittany counted all the way up to eight before Santana finally decided her underwear was the lesser of the two sacrifices. Brittany smirked at the way Santana immediately blocked all view by pulling her knees up.

Unfortunately for Santana, on the next round she was lagging two sets behind Brittany and there weren't that many left. "This is not fair; you have some mathematical formula for knowing which ones are in the stack and which ones are in my hands. It's clearly cheating."

"Awww don't be such a sore loser," Brittany stuck out her tongue confident she was finally going to get Santana naked. "You know, this game is getting really intense, I'm breaking a sweat. I can see you are too."

"What are you suggesting?" Santana's eyebrows shot up.

"That we hurry this game up, actually we can just stop playing and…" Santana pushed all the cards to the side and attacked Brittany's lips. Her skin slipped against Brittany's, their sweat mingled and the heat from their bodies charged them even more. Santana quickly got rid of Brittany's bra and panties. The speed at which they were groping each other caused arms and legs to tangle. Their hair stuck to their faces and got in their mouths but it didn't stop them. Brittany wrestled Santana till she was on top and slipped her wet leg in between Santana's. She rocked into her with a steady rhythm enjoying the smack each time her leg made contact. She knew they had to finish up quickly because the heat was becoming too much.

"More Britt, oh god why have we never done it in a sauna; this is the best." Santana slipped her fingers through Brittany's folds and began to alternate between rubbing her clit fast and pushing into her.

"Honey, faster – I feel like wet sandpaper against you if that even makes sense."

"Oh yeah," Santana upped her speed, "This friction, is amazing and hot."

"Like getting sunburn without getting the actual burn,"

"Britt, focus on getting me off." Santana flipped them and began humping her own hand that was pumping into Brittany. She got the hint and entered Santana roughly knowing she was wet enough to take two fingers.

"Much better."

In a matter of minutes Santana collapsed on top of Brittany having experienced an incredible orgasm. She worked Brittany to the edge, finishing by eating her out.

"I have goose bumps in this heat," Brittany laughed and rolled them over. She took her time to kiss Santana appreciatively.

"Babe, I need to jump in the pool ASAP," Santana grabbed Brittany's hand and together they barreled into the cool water.

A head of gold and then black broke the surface, their hands were still bound to each other. Santana cushioned Brittany's face with her free hand and pulled her in for a sweet kiss.

"Round two?"

* * *

><p><strong>I have final exams next week so maybe no update, but I will try:)<strong>


	20. Chapter 19

**Again not much plot development...a lot of teasing and pleasing **

* * *

><p>Chapter 19<p>

"You know Britt?" Santana dug into her bowl of chilled Dole fruit. "All these rooms and just the size of this place in general, it makes you wonder how many people like us there are put there."

Brittany thought for a while, head resting peacefully on Santana's naked thigh. "I think it would actually be dangerous for all these kind of people to be together. Honestly, we don't have shared loyalties. Everyone has a different background. It'd be very easy to find a reason to kill each other. With most of us being professional killers, it reminds me of prison – a place full of dangerous people."

"You never told me you went to prison babe," Santana teased.

"I didn't, well not for real. It was a mission."

Santana finished the last piece of fruit and put the bowl to the side. There were wrappers and evidence of food everywhere.

"Not that I'm complaining, but how long do you think we'll be stuck here?"

"I don't know," Brittany shrugged and crawled up to lay parallel with Santana. "We've only been here a day."

"I wonder what they are doing in the outside world."

"We have internet here, it's not like we're cut off or anything," Brittany laughed, "Or is that your roundabout way of asking how Puck, Quinn, or oh my god Rachel are doing?"

"Oh please, what a turn off."

"You were turned on?" Brittany raised her eyebrows, "Who are you thinking about?"

"You, naked, in bed with me," Santana wiggled her eye brows. She raised her fingers to touch Brittany's hip.

"If you wanted to have more fun, you could have just told me," Brittany swatted Santana's hand away. She pushed Santana onto her back and straddled her. "But, I want to play another game."

Santana groaned, she hadn't exactly been turned on before but now she was and Brittany was certainly not going to get her off from the look of mischief on her face. "What game?"

"The Let's See How Fast You Can Get Me To Cave Game."

"What the hell is that?" Santana half shouted half laughed.

"Just a little test to see if you've still got it, you know what I mean?"

Oh this was going to be fun, Santana thought. "You don't think I still have it?" She grinded up into Brittany.

"We haven't even started and you're breaking the rules," Brittany pouted.

"There are rules?"

"All games have rules and this one is simple." Brittany paused, waiting for Santana to get impatient. She loved being able to torture Santana like this, foreplay did wonders for their sex life. "Let's go over the goal of the game first. You have to get me to fuck you; it's not as easy as you think."

"I'll get you between my legs in five minutes,"

"Cocky, but as I said it won't be so easy. There is only one rule to the game, you can't touch me."

"Okay," Santana bit her lip. She was going to have to be a bit more creative to get Brittany in bed with her but that was nothing she couldn't manage. "Give me ten minutes."

"We'll see," Brittany smirked and then climbed off of Santana.

"Hey where are you going?" By the time Santana snapped out of her lust filled haze, Brittany was already fully dressed in a sports bra and shorts. No one could blame her for drooling over Brittany's exposed stomach and mile long legs.

"Umm, to the gym," Brittany threw her workout bag over her shoulder.

"But I thought we were playing the game,"

"We are, and I'm going to the gym. You're welcome to come."

Santana did not miss the double meaning, "Oh, you signed up for this and you won't regret it." She said, an idea popping into her head.

"I hope not." Brittany winked.

* * *

><p>"So, I'm going to start with the tread mill." Brittany announced before plugging in her earphones. That kind of threw Santana's plan out the window. Now she couldn't sexy talk Brittany into doing her on the sit up bench.<p>

"Yeah, sure," She said to herself knowing Brittany was already jamming to the Rolling Stones. Time for plan B. Santana noticed that the treadmills faced inward, overlooking the rest of the equipment. Perfect.

Santana began stretching right in Brittany's scope of vision which was basically right in front of the treadmill, taking her time showing off her muscled legs and arms. She twisted her waist and stretched so that her cleavage stood out even more. Already she could tell Brittany was having a hard time not staring.

Abruptly, Santana sauntered over to the Bicycles and straddled it. She purposely rubbed herself on it several times disguised as trying to adjust to the seat. It made her realize how wet she was and how she should hurry up. She put the settings to a light flat-road pace and began to peddle. She had to admit, exercising was one of her favorite activities and it felt good second only to sex.

Getting back to her goal, she put extra effort into jutting her ass out. Brittany loved her ass. She had even gone to spinning classes before just because Brittany said her ass was the best thing in the world and Santana didn't want it to go out of shape – the things she did for love, she was so whipped and she knew it.

Half an hour later, they were both sweaty and they stopped to take a water break. Brittany's earphones were now dangling off her shoulders, Santana noticed. Now was her chance.

"Hey Britt, so how's the work out going?"

"Good, you?"

"My ass is sore," Santana laughed seductively, "I can feel the tenseness. Do you want feel how hard my ass is?"

Brittany gulped, like visibly gulped. Santana encouraged her to touch by bending over and sticking her ass out right in front of Brittany. "Oooooh, stretching like this makes my buns feel a little better," she moaned.

Seeing as it wasn't a rule that _she_ couldn't touch Santana, Brittany softly palmed Santana's ass. The other girl moaned unnecessarily loud. She could see through her spread legs that Brittany was getting turned on. "That's it baby, squeeze my ass. You love it when it's hard and tight; only for you baby."

Finally after a minute Brittany willed her hands to stop. "Well, massage time is up." She gave Santana's bum one last pat. "Awwww," Santana pouted. Never mind, Brittany's brain was already in the gutter, she just had to up her game.

"Hey, I'm going to do some chin ups on that monkey bar thing."

"Oh, I'll join you." Santana said hastily. She let Brittany choose her bar and begin swinging on it. "Come on; let's see what you can do." With a smirk, Brittany started counting as she pulled up. The muscles in her arms strained and it almost made Santana faint.

"I thought you were going to join me," Brittany said after a set of eight.

"I will, you just keep going."

"Okay," Brittany shrugged and prepared to do another set.

When Brittany was busy pulling herself up, Santana hung onto one of the bars and hooked her knees onto another one. She let go of her hands so she was hanging upside down. With one more glance at Brittany, she began to do crunches. She knew her abs were on full display. Every time she pulled up, Santana made sure to moan lightly. Brittany hadn't plugged her ears again so sexual sounds were definitely going to be an advantage.

Another thing Santana had planned was timing. Whenever she pulled up, Brittany would just be dropping down again. This brought them nearly face to face with every drop and pull.

"You're abs are really hot," Santana said as they were both taking a break. She was still upside down while Brittany swung loosely on the bar.

"I could say the same to you, but can you stop staring at my crotch?"

Santana smirked, "it's not my fault it's right in my face. I mean this would be a really hot position to eat you out." Just the thought of it made her shiver. She could tell the visual was playing in Brittany's mind by the way her eyebrows furrowed and her bottom lip sat in between her teeth.

"Maybe another time," Santana dropped to the ground, "gonna go lift some weights." Brittany was hooked and she knew it. Without invitation, Brittany followed her to the barbell rack. "I bet I can lift more than you," Santana challenged.

"You think?" Brittany chuckled.

"Yeah, I mean I'm mostly a field agent while you're a computer geek. I'm sure I can pull more weight."

"Don't underestimate me Santana, have you seen these babies?" Brittany flexed and kissed each of her biceps.

"I still think I can lift more," Santana shrugged. "Where do you want to start? I'm gonna do ten kilo's"

"Show off much?" Brittany laughed and took a set of eight.

After fifty reps, Santana decided that 10 Kilo's were not impressive enough and changed her barbell's to fifteen. Brittany just rolled her eyes and switched hers to twelve.

"Tired yet baby?" Brittany asked seeing that Santana was concentrating hard with every rep.

"Nope, but form is important if you want to stay safe."

"Uhuh,"

"How do the baby weights feel?" Santana taunted. Of course 12 kilo's was pretty heavy but they didn't compare to 15.

"Breezy, I actually think I'll switch to 20 Kilo's." Brittany sat on the bench press and hoisted the heavy weight over her shoulder. To say Santana was shocked was an understatement; her mouth hung wide open as Brittany lifted weight over her head and down again.

"Woah, Britt don't hurt yourself trying to impress me,"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm doing what I normally do."

Santana screwed on 12 kilo's weight's on either side of her bar. She bent over and lifted from floor to chest. "Why have we never gone to the gym together?"

"Because I prefer to be outdoors with you, it's more romantic,"

"Hey going to the gym together could totally be romantic," Santana said. "I'd get to show off how hot my girl is when she's breaking a sweat and be possessive of you whenever someone looked at you wrong."

"I'll book that for the future," Brittany winked. "You're kind of hot lifting 24 Kilo's. I didn't think your miniature frame could handle it."

"I may be small, but I can do a lot of things."

"Tell me about it," Brittany began to pant for a whole different reason.

"I'm pretty flexible, I can do splits on your face or if you'd like to watch I can get off by rubbing myself on a rope suspended five feet off the ground."

Brittany unknowingly shut her legs and adjusted her sitting position, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable wetness. "You talk a good game but who knows if you can deliver." She set the barbell down unable to continue without injuring herself. Santana had shattered all her concentration.

"I'm not opposed to testing," Santana didn't really know if she could do the things she said but if it got Brittany to surrender than she was going to try.

"Okay, let's see if we can find some rope."

The girls searched high and low but there wasn't any to be found.

"Well, too bad that will have to wait," Santana was somewhat relieved that her supposed skills would not be tested today.

"What about this?" Brittany dug up a long, neon green jump rope. "I could hang it from the curtain rod and then," She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Oh, I don't know Britt," Santana thought of an excuse. "The rubber will probably break…"

"Wanky,"

Santana paused and put her hands on her hips, "And now you're using my word…on me."

"I couldn't help it."

"Sure you couldn't, well I can't help you either. You'll just have to wait till we find some sturdy rope." Santana thought about the next part of her plan, "I'm going to take a shower now…a cold shower…you might want to join me because I know you're pretty wet down there and it's not all sweat. I won't mind if you masturbate in the stall next to mine." She turned on her heels and headed towards the bathroom knowing she had won.

In the locker room, Santana took off her clothes not caring that Brittany was entering behind her and was getting a free show. She hummed good naturedly as she bent down to remove her underwear, flinging it in the general direction of Brittany. Her bra too was discarded without much thought. As she entered one of the shower stalls, Santana could hear Brittany cursing at her clothes for not coming off easily. She spun from the wall to face outward.

"What are you standing there for?" She knew Brittany wanted to shower with her but was hesitant because Santana said they should shower separately. "There are other free stalls."

"Fine," Brittany stomped off to the stall on Santana's right and turned on the shower.

After a minute, Santana decided it was time to get Brittany started. "Ohhh, ummm," she moaned as she rubbed soap all over her body. "Yeah, God I'm so wet." Her hands moved to rub bubbles on her legs. "So tight, oh, oh," Santana reached for the bar of soap to collect more on her hands.

"Santana," she heard from the stall over and smirked visualizing Brittany knuckle deep inside herself. "Santana."

"Huh, what?" Santana snapped out of her daydream to see Brittany standing at the entrance of her stall.

"You're not…"

"Coming? No, but I fooled you." Stand there looking at each other was getting awkward and Santana did not do awkward so she began to dance.

"What are you doing?" Brittany gulped, conflicted whether to wait for an invitation or join in because she fucking can. For the love of god, Santana is her wife - Her very sexy wife that is doing some sort of water dance with bubbles. It's all kinds of adorable and hot. And God, she just wants to pop those bubbles.

"I am…getting wet and slippery all over. And I'm touching myself." She made sure to look into Brittany's eyes as she emphasized the touching part dragging her fingers across her stiff nipples.

"Fuck baby," Brittany couldn't stop herself from launching at Santana, throwing her back first into the tiled wall. Pressed chest to chest, naked and wet, Brittany sucked on Santana's neck making her elicit a high-pitched squeal. "I win, I freakin win Britt. Say it, I have game."

"Santana, do you really want me talking when I could be going down on you?"

Brittany's voice made her shudder. Warm lips licked and sucked behind her ear. The kisses moved down the column of her neck as hands dissolved the bubbles covering her breasts. Brittany began to rub her already sensitive buds, loving the rubbery stiffness and how they created a visible reaction on Santana's face.

Her eyes were shut and her mouth open. Her hands clutched tightly to the back of Brittany's head urging her wife to go down. Brittany released her lips from Santana's skin and smirked. "Wasn't there something you wanted me to say?"

Santana was exasperated, even when she was winning she wasn't winning any. "Britt, tell me I have game and go the fuck down on me already!"

Not having to be told twice and deciding she'd already tormented Santana long enough, Brittany silenced Santana with a kiss. She inserted her fingers in Santana's pussy and pumped in short rhythms, going directly to her g-spot.

After a few more pumps, Brittany removed herself from Santana's lips and knelt down knees first onto the hard tiled floor. The stall was small and stuffy but she didn't care so long as she could satisfy Santana. "Honey, I can't do much with this angle. Lift your leg."

Santana obeyed, resting her right thigh on Brittany's shoulder. "You look delicious," Brittany said and connected her lips to Santana's swollen nub. Santana rutted into Brittany's face as Brittany sucked and licked her.

Brittany held on tightly to Santana's ass to keep her still. Already, Santana was moaning loudly, the echo's making her voice sound even more heavenly. Giving her clit a break, Brittany moved her tongue to Santana's entrance and slipped inside. Her walls were tight and pulsating against her tongue. Back and forth, she urged Santana to start a rhythm. It was so hot watching Santana fuck her tongue. When Santana came, Brittany sucked harder and more urgently, milking Santana for all that she had.

She could feel Santana weaken and put more weight onto her as she came down from her high. "Hey honey, let's get rinsed off and then you can rest while I shower. I may have to rub one out, consider it a free show."

Santana nodded with a smile and lifted her leg off Brittany. Standing after that rocking orgasm was a pretty difficult feat. "Come here," Brittany carried Santana in her arms before she could protest and set her on a bench. She fetched a towel and covered Santana's wet frame. "I'll be right out," she left with a kiss.

Brittany had been gone for five minutes when the whimpering began. Santana figured she was masturbating and trying hard not to make noises, what a shame. She'd love to sit there and listen to her wife getting off. Who was she kidding? She wanted to help her wife get off; it was like part of her vows or something.

Finding strength in her legs again, Santana threw off her towel and found the stall Brittany was in. There she was, head pressed hard to the wall under a curtain of water; her hand moving in circles between her legs. She surprised Brittany from behind, joining her under the water even though she had just dried off and replacing Brittany's hand with her own.

"Honey, what are you doing? You're supposed to be…"

"Shhhhh, let me take care of you," Santana cut her off, pressing her lips into Brittany's. Her hand gathered Brittany's wetness and began to rub concentrated circles around Brittany's mound. Brittany sunk her body into Santana's, loving the feeling of being enveloped by the love of her life. "Are you close baby?" Santana asked in between kisses. Brittany's breathing was getting more erratic by the second as they tongued each other's mouths. "Yeah, keep going. I want your fingers inside me." Santana nodded and dropped her lips to Brittany's shoulder. Already, Brittany was helping herself to Santana's fingers, riding them like a pro.

"San, I need you to.."

"I got it Britt," Santana curled her fingers knowing that was what her wife was asking for.

"OH, that's perfect just – do that." Brittany twisted her neck to kiss the side of Santana's head, urging her to join their lips again. Santana used her other hand to hold Brittany tightly to her body as they did their perfect dance. She opened her mouth for Brittany's tongue to enter and let Brittany have her way. Brittany's arm came around Santana's head and held them together. "You're so hot Britt," Santana said when she knew Brittany as close. Talking always helped both of them to let go.

"Come for me baby; come all over my fingers so I can lick them. I won't brush my teeth for days because I don't ever want your taste to go away."

That's all it took for Brittany to crash and cry loudly, "Santanaaaa, I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart, forever and always. That's why I married you." Santana chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to Brittany's cheek.

* * *

><p>The night had been perfect. Santana had made a lovely candlelight dinner; they had cuddled in the planetarium they had found (like who the fuck needs a planetarium? But it's pretty cool) and finally gone to bed kissing sweetly.<p>

It certainly felt like they were on vacation from real life after living like fugitives for two days. But Brittany couldn't stay away from the real world for long. The computer geek inside her was itching for some web surfing time, plus she had something on her mind that was bugging her. Making sure that Santana was sleeping soundly, Brittany Slipped out of bed, put on a hoodie and track pants and went down to the fourth floor where there was a computer lab.

Upon entering, she could tell some of the equipment was out of this world expensive and extremely up to date. There were even some pieces she hadn't seen before and she couldn't wait to get her hands on them. Brittany turned on one of the computers and made sure that it was hooked to a 17inch screen and two huge screens spanning the size of both walls. "Welcome to the labyrinth," She said out loud and laughed because she was talking to herself – computers just got her so excited. "Now, let's enter." Brittany connected to the internet and downloaded her own special program 'BlueJelly' that automatically let her access the server and files from her own computer. She typed in the letters, "b-l-o-b-m-o-u-n-t-a-i-n" when prompted for a password. "And here we go."

Several of the projects she had been working on had been complete. She checked that they had gone well without a glitch. "Perfect, and time for the pay," her inbox notification popped up telling her that there were some new messages. She opened her mailbox and scrolled to find the name 'triplecore.'

"Bingo," The message thanked her for a job well done and asked where to send her gift, gift being code for money. Brittany hit reply and apologized for not answering sooner. She wrote down that he could wire the money to the account of Ana Tirb in the Cayman Islands. The other messages were of little interest to her, just more people asking her to do more jobs. Usually she'd be happy to start a new project but something else was occupying her mind.

She closed her inbox and opened her customized search engine which she had painstakingly tweaked to include all of the archives from the United States government and the FBI. It gave her maximum results when she needed to do research. It was one of a kind and that's why "BrixXxan" was always on high demand in the hacking market.

Reviewing what exactly it was that she wanted to look for, Brittany input the words Motta and Flanagan then coded the search to find everything that had four degree's of association. It only took two seconds' for her powerful search engine to come back with 12870 results, way too many. With one look, Brittany knew there was too much junk to go through – she had to be more specific.

What kind of past would Sugar Motta try to hide? Brittany had never doubted Sugar before but it struck her as strange that each time Rory Flanagan had escaped them, Sugar had been involved each time. Could they be working together? It didn't seem plausible unless their plans were much bigger than a few oil shares. Sugar Motta had joined Brittany and Quinn six months before Rory Flanagan even existed to her. It was all very confusing.

From what Brittany knew, Sugar was a sweet girl – a bit eccentric, but sweet. Once upon a time, she could trust Sugar with her life and that said a lot about her confidence in the girl. Not one time had Sugar let their team down until Rory Flanagan showed up.

She was missing something very big and obvious, she just didn't know what. "I need a cup of coffee," Brittany groaned and decided to enter the sixth dimension chat room while she went to get some. She took her time going up the elevator to the ground floor and setting up the good coffee machine, not the automatic one. She opened a bag of full, not yet grounded coffee beans and put a cup full in the machine. She didn't know how much she actually needed, when it came to making food or drinks she just went with instincts and hoped it turned out – that's why she and Santana had a running joke about saying 'surprise me,' because many times it was quite literal. Anyways, Brittany didn't care if she put too much, the stronger the better.

Brittany poured the coffee into a large mug, it was equivalent of two mugs and according to her logic meant that she wouldn't need to make more later. She put in two teaspoons of sugar and some creamer. "Ahhhh," She sighed satisfied. On her way downstairs, Brittany nearly runs into Santana who is carefully monitoring her feet not looking where she's going.

"Brittany!"

"Santana," Brittany smiles only half as shocked as her frizzy haired wife.

"I thought you left or someone took you in my sleep." Santana breathed deeply now that the nightmare of waking up without Brittany was over. "What are you doing up so early and what is that ungodly mug filled with? Brittany?"

"I've had an ephipany! Of course, the string couldn't link to anything because there were no threads to follow!" Brittany left Santana on the stairs watching her.

"Hey! Where the hell are you going and why are you not speaking human? Brittany!" Santana ran after her, not an easy task for a newly woken person. "Tell me about the epiphany!"

"What is going on here! Oh wow," Santana stops at the entrance of the computer lab. It's definitely out of her league. "Is this witchcraft?"

"No San, I used to call it the demon's dungeon when I was so addicted to all this stuff. I was literally a slave to my computer once upon a time, I'm not kidding."

"Okay, like is it safe to enter?" Santana didn't know why she was being so apprehensive but she'd never entered a labyrinth like it before.

"Of course, grab a chair. We have some work to do. Sugar Motta is not the girl we think she is."

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><p><strong>Next chapter I promise all plot and no play (except for the usual flirting and married couple banter)<strong>


	21. Chapter 20

**How is everybody doing? I just wanted to say that this story is coming to an end very soon. There's only one chapter left and then an epilogue. **

**Thanks for all the comments, they encourage me to write. The amount of love I get for this story is amazing. **

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><p>Chapter 20<p>

"Do you think she's a double agent?" Santana stroked her imaginary beard while Brittany typed in a cryptic language.

"Oh, I'm quite sure of that. Did you know that every time Rory escaped our hands, Sugar was in the room?" Brittany sat back and let the computer do the work.

"When did she first arrive on the scene?"

"Sugar? She was with us long before Rory. I think this is something way bigger than just Rory and his uncle." The search showed fifty percent completion. "So, this is where I need your help. I don't believe Sugar Motta is her real name because it's nonexistent. There are no traces of it anywhere in the news or blacklists. What do you think her real name is?"

Santana was stumped. How in the world was she supposed to know? "Ummm, Nancy Drew?"

"Very funny," Brittany rolled her eyes. "It's fine, I have no idea yet either but once these results come up I'm sure to find out."

"How long is this going to take?" Santana yawned and laid her head on the small bit of surface not covered with equipment. "Can we do this in the morning?"

"It is morning Santana, see three am." Brittany pointed to the computers time device.

"Fine, I'm going to get some coffee so I can be useful." She got up and left a lazy kiss to Brittany's lips.

Once Santana was gone, Brittany brought up BlueJelly and scanned the message board.

_I'm back; do you have anything for me? _Brittany typed. She hoped that the other hackers could make some sense of the foreign language data she had come across.

_Goobre - got nothing. It's pretty straight forward business dealings._

_HawKing - Nothing either, although I traced one of the stories to a scandal. Dude was having elicited affairs with his father's secretary. Denied of course. But probably true._

_Bonghead – Found the name of his mistress Lol. Also nudes._

_HawKing – She can't have been happy with his second (fourth?) helpings. What's her name? _

_Goobre – Mary Queen of Sluts? _

_Bonghead – Shut up its Garcia Attom. And I'm sure she gets off on his money more than his d***_

_HawKing – Give me the nudes!_

_Bonghead – Gay gay gay … check your inbox_

"ugh," Brittany grumbled. _Thanks guys. _She typed and thought nothing of their conversation.

_Gutenturd – Hey, got smthing u might like off a Deutsch site. Rumor has it there was money laundering off Flanagan Enterprise in 2001, secretary was suspected and fired. It was intended that she be brought to court but she escaped the country. She was also suspected of other crimes of the same nature. _

Brittany made the connection instantly and changed the search target to Garcia Attom.

"So what have you found?" Santana plopped down in the seat beside her and stretched her legs out onto the computer desk. Brittany had been engrossed in making the connection between the information that she hadn't noticed Santana's return.

"Is that some gamer's forum Britt? Because I swear to god if you've been a secret gamer all this time… we could have had some very good Saturday nights."

Brittany shut down the page so fast she almost exited her search engine as well. "What? Umm no, I…that was…I was reading about the latest gaming technology because I like codes and things it's good to expand my programming knowledge." She smiled, hoping that her excuse had been convincing.

"Yeah, okay. You in a chatroom or something? because I can hear the pinging. The other geeks are calling for you. Tell them your wife will kick their asses in Call of Duty if they try to hit on you." True to Santana's word, another string of pinging sounds erupted.

"Fine," Brittany recalled the page.

"Holy shit is that…!"

Brittany's hands flew to cover the monitor but because it was so big, parts of it still showed.

"Babe, I don't know what this is but your hands aren't covering much. I can still see the man's privates which is disgusting. At least cover that and not the boobs."

"Santana," Brittany whined as she withdrew her hands, baring the pictures in all their glory. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Are you ashamed of looking at porn?" Santana laid a hand over her heart in faux shock. "Because, I'm not surprised after what we've been doing all day, you'd want to get in the mood for more. Although, it's a little surprising that you like to look at straight porn."

"I'm not looking at porn!" Brittany shouted. _You idiots are gross, take those down NOW_. She typed

_Goobre – just joining the fun? _

_Bonghead – told HawK to keep them to himself PErV_

_HawKing – sharing is caring dudes. Enjoy the spoils of your hard work Bong._

"Is that, Sugar Motta?" Santana planted her feet on the floor and leaned in for a closer look. "And Flanagan. Oh my god, it's them, that red hair is not deceiving me!"

"Her name is actually Garcia Attom. Long story short, she's a criminal who stole off Flanagan Enterprise and has probably been working closely with Rory."

Just then the search engine chimed that it had completed its task.

"Bingo," Brittany said, saving all the news articles to her hard disk back at home. The data also went directly to her handheld computer.

"We hit a goldmine Britt, but that means that Quinn and Puck could possibly be in danger. They went to help her after she supposedly got blackmailed by Rory. They're walking into some sort of trap if those two have been working together all along. We have to tell them somehow." Santana began to panic.

"That also means we aren't safe here. We have to go Santana." Brittany shut down all the computers in a hurry. She had a sinking feeling that some terrible things were already in motion and finding out now might be too late. "They know where we are."

The two Lopez's sprinted up the stairs to their room where they threw all their belongings into the knapsacks they brought with them. "Try ringing them." Santana shouted over her shoulder as she tightened the bag's opening in one swift pull.

"There's no answer." Brittany pressed redial but received the same automated answer, _the number you have dialed is not available at this time. _

"Whatever, let's get out of here." Santana threw her backpack on and rushed to help Brittany with hers.

"How are we going to leave Santana? We're in the middle of nowhere with no vehicle to escape in. If they're close, we could be visible for miles on the ground." Santana contemplated for a minute, taking in the fine facility they called home for the past few days and how much she would miss the carefree way she could spend her time with Brittany without anyone in the world disturbing them.

"I got it!" Her eyes widened. The mind sparking thought awoke her more than the coffee she'd downed a few minutes prior. "Look at this place Brittany; it's like state of the art. I doubt they don't have any hidden pods or garages where they keep cars. Hell, this place probably has a helicopter pad, maybe even a jet. We just have to find it."

"That sounds possible but it could take us a while to find it. Do we have that kind of time?"

"Well, what other option do we have? I'm not escaping on foot over miles of endless open space. That's riskier than if we hid somewhere in this facility while Flanagan's men crept all over it looking for us."

"That's only if they're close. I bet we can make it into the woods in half an hour if we sprint." Brittany crossed her arms.

"And then what? They'll find us eventually and that means if we're trekking all the way back to town we have to carry supplies. That would slow us down." Santana pointed out. "Look, we're wasting time discussing this. I'm going to look for a map of this place." She promptly left the room without saying another word.

Brittany sighed and gave up on doing anything that wasn't Santana's idea. It sounded pretty good in her head too, but she had a bad feeling that their enemies were nearer than they thought. That made her queasy and even more eager to leave before they got here.

She decided their best bet to finding some sort of guide through the facility would probably be found on the systems storage. She trudged back down to the computer room and powered the computers again, counting every second that passed by under her breath. She searched for the blueprint of the facility and found it immediately in one of the back-up drives. Pulling it up, she hurried to the big screen and tried to make sense of the levels and hall ways. She placed her finger on the entrance and traced a path to the computer room, familiarizing herself with the map. Then, she checked the legend for the name of any holdings for automobiles and aircrafts.

Just as Santana had said, the facility had a garage and a large hidden runway for planes along with a helicopter pad. "Genius," Brittany found the quickest route to their desired destination. It was all the way in the west wing, opposite of where she was currently standing. From her calculations, Brittany figured it would take her five minutes to find Santana and another fifteen for them to run full speed to the other wing. Twenty minutes. Brittany saved the map to her handheld palm and quickly donned her backpack once again.

"Santana," Brittany called out after ten minutes of running up and down stairs and searching the floors. They only had one phone which was in Brittany's pocket. If only Santana would pick up one of the facilities phones or use the intercom to communicate with her, Brittany grumbled inwardly. Her wife could literally be anywhere at this point. Deciding that continuing her search for Santana wouldn't be any more fruitful than it had been till now, Brittany began running in the direction of the hanger. She went down to the ninth floor where there was a hidden passage leading all the way to the hanger.

It didn't take long for her to surface into the expansive holding area. Brittany stopped to catch her breath as she exited the elevator that shot her all the way up, from her guess, higher than ground level. She walked past rows and rows of aircrafts to the large doors that opened up to skies. She found the button that would awaken the heavy steel doors and watched them move up till a large gaping hole showed itself in the hanger.

It was still dark out, but the hanger was high enough for Brittany to see the beginnings of a sunrise on the horizon. The cool outside air filled her lungs and she realized that she had missed the great outdoors immensely after being cooped in the facility for two days.

"Nice view huh?" A voice came from behind her, almost startling her into toppling off the side of the mountain in which the hanger and runways was embedded. Santana stood arms akimbo, panting heavily.

"Yeah, how did you get here?" Brittany wondered.

"Instinct." Santana smiled smugly. "I figured that any hanger would have to be well above ground for the planes to get up in the air. The wing we were in, opened up to flat plains like you know so I went to the opposite wing. I might have gotten lost, a little bit." Santana admitted. "But hey, I found it without a map!"

"Impressive," Brittany rolled her eyes. "You know, I was worried for you. Couldn't you have called or something so I knew where you were?"

"I was looking for our escape from lock down! Sorry if I didn't think to call you."

Brittany knew it wasn't the time or place to be picking a fight but the way that Santana seemed to disregard her well being hurt her. "So what were you going to do? Find this place and then find a phone?"

"There's one in this hanger, probably in the control room up there." Santana pointed to a large glass window overlooking the entire area.

"Fine, since I seem to just be a sort of after-thought to you. Do what you want." Brittany swung on her heels and walked down the aisle until she found a plane that she liked. She had extensive training in piloting aircrafts because apart from being an intelligence master, the company she signed up for required their assassins to handle aircrafts for overseas missions as well.

"Brittany, it wasn't like that! I was thinking about us getting out of here okay?" Santana followed Brittany to where she was dragging a ladder towards her chosen aircraft. She situated it at the doors opening and stomped up the steps, closing the door before Santana could reach the top.

She knew she was being mean but Santana's answer had really annoyed her.

Behind closed doors, Brittany closed her eyes and ground her teeth. She shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't Santana that had made her mad, just the whole situation.

What if she couldn't find her again? What if Rory's men got a hand on her and she didn't know where Santana was? It was the overwhelming fear of losing Santana that had made her paranoid and angry.

Heaving a defeated sigh, Brittany pressed the release button for the door expecting Santana to be outside.

"Santana?" She stuck her neck out and scanned the area for any signs of movement but there were none. "I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you." There was still no answer.

She made heavy plonks down the steel stairs till she was on ground level again. She turned 360 degrees but still there was no Santana. A real fear settled into her stomach. It made her uneasy and over alert. She felt that perhaps it was no longer just her and Santana in the giant facility. Something was happening and she didn't want to know what that was all alone. Throwing all caution to the wind she shouted for Santana.

It was only a minute before she could breathe a little easier. After running from one end of the hanger to the other, Santana came down the stairs from the glass loft up above. Her face was pale and her expression was one of worry.

"They're coming. And they've got Quinn, Puck and Mike."

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><p>"They can't do this, they're going to fucking pay!" Santana bellowed into the hollow space. Its echo rang three times as loud. "Lives are just a game for them! I still don't understand why <em>He<em> is doing this!"

"Santana, tell me what they said." Brittany held her by the shoulders to keep her from lashing out.

"He said he knew where we were and that he was here. He's here with a whole damn army. He said to be prepared. There's going to be a signal, we have to find them or every half hour he's going to kill someone."

"Well what are we waiting for then?" Brittany sprang into action.

"Britt?" Santana made no effort to move. "What are we going to do?"

"Find our friends of course!" It was a no brainer decision so why was Santana so hesitant.

"We can't just do that Brittany. You could get hurt!"

Brittany was on a brink between melting over Santana's concern and wanting to kick her for underestimating her ability to survive.

"It's a risk but that's what our whole lives have been about Santana. You know nothing comes easy, and certainly not our freedom from our pasts. But that's why we have to fight all the more. It's worth it. Come on they were there for us when we needed them, now they need us. And Santana, I have your back. We're going to kick their asses. We'll go together. I'm never letting you out of my sight again. I've got you."

"Okay," Santana said quietly, taking in every promise Brittany had offered her. She knew that there was no way she was going to let anything happen to Brittany either over her dead body. "We need a plan."

"If you were a terrorist, where would you hide your hostages?" Brittany began to think. She knew they didn't have much time till some sign was sent to them and the clock began to tick.

"There are like two thousand rooms here!" Santana exclaimed as she paced rounds on the floor.

"I know, but think. Which room would you choose?"

"Ummm, let see. There are ten floors overall. Eliminate the first floor, they aren't hiding in the lobby, and the fourth floor with all the sports facilities. The Area is too big, it'll take too many men to keep it secure; they'll want as many men as possible prowling the halls for us."

"Okay so that leaves eight. I'm sure they aren't hiding them on this upper level floor so we can cut that out. Remove the gaming slash theater floor and ballroom – there are no exits and from what I know about Rory, he needs an out every time."

"So that leaves six floors." Santana drew a quick map, crossing out the floors they'd eliminated. "Usually, I'd make the basement my first bet but I don't think Rory is going to go that deep only to trap himself if he gets in trouble. Besides, I don't think he even knows how to get there much less get inside. It needs a code that only the engineers have and there are none handy here at present."

"Okay, five left. Four of those are bedrooms and the last is the library."

"He's not in the library. That's a nightmare of a place for keeping guard. The bookshelves provide way too many chances for surprise attacks."

"So one of the bedrooms, that's floors three, six, seven, and eight." Brittany had barely finished her sentence when the lights went out.

"That's the sign." Santana's voice was shaking with nervousness and excitement.

"How'd they get to the source of electricity? I thought all controls were in the basement."

"Quinn, they must have made her do it."

"We have to go now. They're probably still making their way out of the basement, we can follow them back to where the others are being held hostage."

"Good thinking. I've got your back." Santana said and readied her ammunition.

Since the power had been cut, they had to find a different route out of the hanger. Brittany quickly noticed that there was an exit through the mechanic shop off to the right of the main area.

The hall was narrow, rather like a tunnel with no light at the end. By now, their eyes had adjusted to the dark and Santana could make out the neatly painted walls. The air smelled of gasoline and other oils used to maintain the planes.

"Are you sure this doesn't lead to a dead end?" Santana whispered unnecessarily. The closed in space made it sound like she was speaking in her normal voice.

"There are always stairs for places like this along with a service elevator." Brittany said nonchalently. "They're used to haul up parts or heavy things."

Sure enough at the end of the path a door presented itself. It opened easily without a squeak as if it had never been moved on it's hinges before. "This should lead all the way to the nineth floor above the basement according to the blueprint. Where do you think they are now?"

From Santana's estimate, Quinn and her abductors would already be making their way up to the eighth floor. "We're going to be too late." She announced as they descended two floors lower. "They've already made it to eighth which means that they could already be back in the holding room."

"Not necessarily," Brittany huffed as she jumped two stairs at a time. "From my approximations, we're on third already. Let's check it. If the patrol is thin than we know it's not that floor, leaving us with a block of 6, 7, 8. Much easier to handle. We just have to follow the guards." Brittany winked and pressed the metal handle of the door. Giving it a strong yank, it gave way easily not uttering a single whine.

"Do you hear anything?" She whispered. Santana replied negative. They walked down the corridor, guns ready, listening for anything that might be an enemy. Brittany turned briefly to look at Santana when a gunshot went off. For a minute she believed they'd been ambushed and that she might be bleeding somewhere. But she felt no pain, only a quivering of excitement that they were now closer to finding their friends. "Santana?" Her voiced raised slightly as she ran her hands quickly over her body, searching for any fluids.

"He was in front of you." Santana looked her in the eye. "We're okay."

Brittany turned around and dropped on her knees beside the still figure. She checked for a pulse but felt none. "He's gone." She confirmed and stood again. "I don't think they're being held on this floor. The shot would have alerted any other stalkers nearby."

Hurriedly, Brittany and Santana left the way they'd come, descending the dark stairs past the fourth and fifth floor to the sixth. As they arrived at the door of the sixth level, it burst open catching them by surprise. On the other side was an equally shocked armed man. Getting over her initial reaction, Santana raised her gun and fired before the man could shoot at them. Brittany stepped over the dead body and fired at the oncoming mass of Flanagan's lackeys. Santana ducked low and shot from behind sending a wall of bullets into their bodies, all this before any of the men had a chance to shoot.

"That was a mini army," Brittany cocked her gun back and reloaded. "We're probably close."

"Wait, quiet." Santana threw her hand over Brittany's mouth. From afar they could hear someone giving orders to another man. "Go see what that was, I'll hold the hostage."

"Quinn," They both whispered in unison, immediately holding their guns out in front of them in a 'ready to shoot' stance as they followed the sound. They came to a corner, Brittany peeked out from behind it. "There, one guy has got Quinn, they're moving up the stairs. Let's go."

As Brittany turned the corner, a shot rang out. The bright light of fire shot her eyes and blinded her for a second. In an instant, she was firing back at the blurring figure. "You get Quinn," Brittany told Santana as she advanced in the direction of her assailant. "Quick, before they can alert anybody else."

Santana dashed forward to the bottom of the stairs, only taking a brief moment to look over her shoulder at Brittany. She was caught in a difficult situation, one in which her mind was only now comprehending. On one hand, captor was dragging captive away up the stairs and on the other, Brittany was alone, chasing danger that could quickly multiply if others found out their location quick enough. She didn't want to leave Brittany but getting to Quinn could lead her straight to Rory.

"Brittany!" Santana shouted into the dark. "Are you okay? I'll come back for you. I promise." There was no answer, only a round of gun shots. Biting her lip, Santana turned on her heels and bounded up the stairs after Quinn and the man who held her captive. Now, she could make out the sound of Quinn shouting for the man to let her go. She must be resisting and slowing him down, Santana thought. That could be bad, if Quinn angered him enough, the man could shoot her through the head.

Picking up speed, Santana closed the gap between the struggling duo nearing the top of the stairs. In one swift move, she raised her gun and shot the man in the neck. He turned to look at her, face raging and blood boiling but then his face contorted into confusion and pain. His hand clasped the back of his neck where the bullet had entered and then he was swaying on his feet, letting Quinn go altogether. Grabbing the man, Santana pushed him up against the wall, smearing his blood all over it. She raised her gun one last time, pointed it at his head and knocked him out cold. There was no need to waste another bullet on him, unconscious he would bleed out and die in no time.

"Quinn," Santana said as she uncuffed her with the key she found on the man's body. She ripped off the blindfold and waited for Quinn's vision to focus on her. "Where is everybody else?"

"Game room," Quinn used Santana's body to steady herself as she stood up.

"Really? Britt and I thought Flanagan would choose one of the million bedrooms to hold you guys."

"Well, he couldn't resist the refreshments and entertainment while he waited."

"So stupid. How many men does he have left?" Santana asked. The longer she stood doing nothing the more anxious she became. There were no longer any sounds of shooting meaning that Brittany had finished the man off or that she was...no she couldn't be otherwise that man would have run back already. Still, not being able to see Brittany was beginning to give her a panic attack.

"I think he's got five men with him. The rest were sent out to kill you."

"Then we have no time to waste." Santana and Quinn began to move away from the stairs when a crackling sound came out of nowhere. "What's that?"

"Radio," Quinn replied, "Rory's communicating with his men."

Quickly, Santana ran down the stairs to retrieve the listening and speaking piece. She placed her hand over the mic, completely covering it from picking up sounds and she stuffed the earpiece into her ear.

"Updates, men." The voice Santana hated spoke. A leader informed that his team had heard noises above, they assumed it came from the sixth floor and they were on their way up now. Another said that he'd been called to regroup with the former team.

"They're coming," Santana whispered to Quinn. "They know where we are."

"Good," Rory continued. "I believe we lost a few comrades already, don't let those to blasted women get away with this. Howard...Howard..."

A groggy sounding voice replied, "Boss...they...she". Santana guessed it was the man Brittany had gone after and a deep fear set in.

"It's time," Rory cut him off, "and they will pay dearly. Kill the blonde girl."

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><p>Meanwhile, in a room on the sixth floor Brittany was lying on cold bathroom tiles in a pool of blood.<p>

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><p><strong>Cliffhanger :D <strong>

**Anyone want to guess what happens? Oh and hats off to the person who sensed Sugar Motta was a sneaky sneak who ratted out on Brittana**


	22. Chapter 21

**So this week I got around to updating both my WIP fics. Not much to say about this one except it starts right where the last chapter left off, in the middle of the action. **

**A big thank you for all the reviews and for reading this story. **

**Without further delay, enjoy this last chapter.**

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><p>Chapter 21<p>

Santana moved swiftly with Quinn on her heels, telling her where to go. She listened for the sound of feet. Good thing she didn't hear any.

"So who have they got in there? Is it only Puck?" Santana counted off in her heads how many rounds she had left in her sawed off gun.

"No, they've got Mike too." Quinn replied. "Through that door." It was the main entrance to the game room. Two hefty guards were keeping watch.

"Okay, we don't want to alert anyone inside that we're here but we have to take care of those guys." Santana drew her head back around the corner and rummaged through her bag till she found a silencer. She screwed it on and then handed the gun to Quinn. "Divide and conquer." She winked.

"What are you going to use?" Quinn questioned as she got familiar with the gun's weight. She missed carrying one and was still berating herself for losing hers to the enemy. She should have fought back before they all were captured but Mike begged her not to fight. They were at a disadvantage already so Quinn surrendered.

"Don't worry, I have my ways." Santana smirked and clicked open a foot long blade. "Now we just need a little distraction."

"What are you…"

"Ahhhh, owwwww!" Santana began to moan, her face contorting into weird forms for added affect. If there's anything she learned about delusions, the more effort you put into making it real the more convincing it is. She continued screaming but tried not to alert the whole building. She stuck her head around the corner again and smiled. One of the guards had heard and was leaving to take a look at where the sound had come from.

"That's you Quinn," Santana cocked her head. "I'll get the guy by the door. Meet me there when you're done. And don't take too long. Your precious baker boy's life is on the line."

"Would you stop calling him that?" Quinn growled but left Santana promptly to take down her target.

Santana moved stealthily across the walkway and kept her back close to the opposite wall. She moved fluidly, like water –making no sound till she was only a few meters away from the guard still watching anxiously for his friend. At what she felt was the right moment, Santana leapt from the shadows as high as she could to jam her knife into the man's neck. She got it, but wasn't able to dig in as deep as she hoped.

The man was caught by surprised and dropped his gun. His hands tried to find the source of pain that had shocked him from nowhere; meanwhile he felt his breath being cut off by two hands and a tight grip. His presence of mind had already shattered as he flailed relentlessly in every direction to find his bearings. In a stroke of luck, he found what had disabled him so and pulled the knife right out of his skin. Blood gushed out, soaking his clothes and traveling fast down his body. There was so much and he couldn't breathe. He next tried to remove the source of his suffocation but his hands did little but flap and slap against the hold of his strangler. In a minute it was all over.

Santana scrambled off the body she had just ended, wiping her sweaty hands on ass. She picked up her bloody knife from where it had fallen from the man's fingers and wiped it clean on the body. "And that's how we do it in Lima Heights." She huffed having spent quite a lot of energy making sure the man did not make a sound before he died. A moment later, Quinn caught up with her.

"Good job Santana, didn't know you could be so evil."

"Whatever, killing is killing. Help me drag this dead weight out of the way." They took a leg each and pulled painting a trail of red on the marble floor.

When they had deposited the body behind a large panel, Santana and Quinn poked their heads up to scan for activity. The area remained blissfully quiet.

"Are you ready to go in?" Santana asked her sidekick. She felt prepared for anything after having time to catch her breath.

"Wait, aren't you worried about Brittany?" Quinn shot back.

There had been no sounds from the lower level from which they'd come. The last thing Santana heard were gun shots and now…

"I have to find her." Santana sprung up in realization that Brittany had not been on her mind at all. She began to fear that something was wrong with her. Brittany was her wife, the person she loved more than anybody in the world. She was the person that made everyday worth living, and Santana had forgotten about her. Brittany could be in need her right now and here she was doing nothing.

"Oh my god, Brittany!" Santana clasped her hand over her mouth to contain the scream on her lips. All the worst case scenarios plowed through her mind like a tank over children's toys. Could she be dead?

* * *

><p>Her head hurt like she'd been buried under extreme pressures for a decade. Clutching her head in her hands she tried to stand up but a shock of pain in her abdomen forced her sit again. Her vision was clearing up, leaving a smudged ring around her vision. Better not stand and risk losing her footing she thought as she waited for her mind to begin analyzing the situation.<p>

Off to her left, her opponent lay still and barely moving. He wasn't dead. Brittany caught the slight movement of his lungs filling with air but emptying much too quickly to supply enough oxygen to his body. He would die sooner or later but the longer he waited, the more painful it would be.

Grabbing the bed linens from behind her, Brittany yanked with all her might. It came loose slowly. She gave it several more yanks, as hard as she could muster, and it finally hung over her shoulders. With her last remaining ounce of energy, she tore the white cloth into a long, narrow strip till it detached from the bigger sheet.

Ripping her blood soaked tank off, she howled into her gritted teeth. The pain of dry blood peeling at her skin sent unrelenting waves of pain to her brain. It hurt like hell, but the worst was over as she dropped the useless piece of clothing to the floor. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she looked over her legs. She jiggled them back and forth only feeling a slight pain from what were probably only bruises – good thing she didn't break any bones.

She secured the torn strip of linen around her midsection where she had been stabbed and wrapped it tightly; wincing every time it pulled taut against her wound. It was a numbing pain now; she would be able to tune it out. Years of hard fighting had taught her not to succumb to pain. Brittany tied the end and twisted her torso to test her new bandage. It stayed. Relived, she tried again to pick herself up, successful this time to stand steady on her feet. Her vision had returned in full now, and her mind was sharp as pins. She remembered everything, the gunshots, the knife fight, being stabbed, beating the guy to a pulp and nearly strangling him to death. She hadn't been able to finish, her whole world had spun as fast as a carnival tea cup and she had to rest.

Now she felt the energy run through her, more and more. She did a trial step with her right foot and then her left till her feet carried her to hover over the wasting body of her enemy.

"Hey," her voice crackled from the sting that coursed through her body as she knelt down. "Can you hear me?" She looked for signs of recognition or understanding from the man. He blinked with great effort.

"Good. Now listen, you're going to die." She swallowed. Telling someone their life was about to end was not something Brittany had a chance to do every day. "You can't breathe because there is a hole in your lungs and…" Brittany decided to skip to the point. She would be merciful. She lifted her hands, flexing them to check for blood circulation – they would do the job. "I'll make it quick if you give me some answers."

Without waiting for the man to acknowledge her, she pressed her hands to the sides of his neck – cupping them gently. "What do you know about Rory Flanagan's relationship with Sugar Motta?"

He sputtered and his throat contracted as he tried to talk. "They want to…" He paused to swallow though there was nothing to stop him from coughing. Brittany ran to the bathroom and brought him a cup of water. It wouldn't do much but it would help him to speak a little easier.

"They want to control the oil. It was her plan." Brittany watched him close his eyes and open them again. She hoped he wouldn't go into a state of unconsciousness before she got enough information out of him.

"Hey," she slapped his face back and forth gently.

"I don't know much. I only take orders."

"Can you give me names? Anybody they've associated with."

"Only powerful people, the names I can't remember. I…" He stopped breathing for a few seconds before he started again. Brittany nearly flattened her hands on his chest to revive him. She knew he didn't have much time left.

"Just try, please." She begged. A loud bang had her standing up quickly. She listened for more but there was nothing. She returned her attention back to the dying man.

"Trying, they are fighting him but he will win with weapons. No one can stop him."

"No, I can stop him. But I need more, tell me anything!" Brittany began desperately to shake the man's arm to keep him awake. He was slipping.

Another loud bang came, this time closer than before. Brittany was scared one of the other body guards had come to find the dying man. When she turned back to him, he was saying something. She lowered her head to hear it.

"Friend of prince, …helping to make b-b-o," He said no more. With a sigh, Brittany shut his eyes. There was nothing more to be done. She walked to the door but stopped a meter short of it when she heard scuffling on the other side; she only had a split second to dive under the bed.

All she could see were heavy boots. She held her breath and watched them quickly move towards the dead man. Whoever it was knelt down checked for his breath and quickly withdrew something from their pocket. Brittany had an eerie feeling it was a gun.

The boots walked around then went to the bathroom. Brittany considered leaving her hiding place and surprising the person when they came out but the boots returned too quickly.

With a sigh of relief, Brittany watched them walk towards the door. But they stopped. Maybe the person heard her let out a breath. If that was the case, Brittany was going to have to ready herself to fight. As she guessed, the boots made a straight path to the bed.

This was it. Brittany counted to five and with all her strength she grabbed the person's ankles and pulled. She got the desired effect. The body promptly collided with the ground and Brittany crawled on top of them punching the person in the face and grabbing the knife in their hand.

Her other hand held the person down by the throat.

"Stop, Britt it's me." Santana squeaked holding both her hands up.

"Santana," Brittany dropped the knife and lunged forward, smothering her in a hug.

"We're alright babe," Santana wrapped her arms around her wife. "You're alright. I was so worried."

"I'm so glad you're here with me."

"I wasn't going to leave you. I'd never do that."

They stayed embraced for another long moment and then Brittany sat up. She brushed her fingers over Santana's cheek where a dark purple was starting to form.

"Sorry that I punched you," Brittany leaned down to show Santana how truly sorry she was. She kissed under Santana's ear, then her jaw; avoiding the colored area.

"It was a good one,"

"Does it hurt badly?"

"I might feel better if you kiss me," Santana wiggled her eyebrows but grimaced when it sent a sharp pain through her face.

"Poor you," Brittany pouted and connected her lips with Santana's. She tried to keep it soft and gentle but Santana seemed to have other ideas. She gripped the back of Brittany's neck and twisted her head to one side. Her lips opened and Brittany stroked her tongue over her teeth and then deeper into her mouth. Santana played with Brittany's tongue a little until she pushed against it with her own.

Brittany moaned loudly.

They kissed till they were both thoroughly out of breath. "We have to get going don't we?" Brittany asked with her ear to Santana's chest.

"Yeah, I kind of abandoned Quinn somewhere." Santana said without a hint of care as she ran her fingers through Brittany's hair. "But are you okay baby?" She remembered spotting the bloodied shirt before being tripped on her ass.

"I saw your shirt and I thought for a split second about if you were, you know."

"I'm okay," Brittany quickly reassured her, not wanting Santana to think about what could have possibly happened to her. "I just had to bandage myself, and the shirt is ruined."

"What happened to you baby?" Santana rubbed over the makeshift bandage. Light red was soaking through.

"I took out one of the oafs but this one got a jab into my side. I disarmed him and shot him through the lungs so I came out on top. Nothing to worry about."

"Of course I'm going to worry," Santana screwed her eyebrows together. "You're injured."

"But we can't just leave our friends Santana,"

"I know, but I don't want you getting hurt even more."

"And I know you won't let me. You've got my back Santana, I trust you. Do you trust me to take care of myself?"

Santana nodded slowly while pressing her thumbs into Brittany's stomach, massaging her there. "Fine, but just know that I am not happy everyone is going to see you half naked like this."

"I might be a good distraction," Brittany winked.

"Please, I'll probably be the most distracted of anyone. And how is me getting killed going to help any of us?"

"Well then, you'll just have to control yourself." Brittany pulled Santana up into a sitting position and kissed her soundly. Once again, both of them were oblivious to the danger and fighting.

"Come on honey," Brittany got up and pulled Santana along with her. "Ready to kick some bad guy ass?"

She handed the fallen knife back to Santana and grabbed the stolen hand gun off the bed. Brittany led the way out, earning a slap on the butt from Santana.

* * *

><p>Santana led Brittany back the way she came. They ran past halls of open doors, which Brittany assumed had been wrenched ajar in Santana's haste to find her.<p>

"This is where I was last with Quinn," Santana said, looking at the dead bodies they'd moved out of the way. Everything was just how she'd left it. There were no sounds and the large library doors seemed to have not been opened at all.

"So what's the plan? Are just going to attack?"

"With our few numbers, I think its better we surprise them and keep picking them off till there's a manageable number of men left."

"You're so smart…" Quick as a cheetah, Brittany dodged an opened mouthed Santana and knocked someone over.

"Okay, what the fuck!" Santana turned around to see Brittany pinning Quinn onto the floor. Her gun, well Santana's gun, lay a safe three meters away. People really needed to give her warning before dashing at her or slamming her to the floor.

"I saw someone with a gun coming behind you, so I intervened." Brittany huffed, "Sorry Quinn." She crawled off and held her side. It was a little painful from the fall.

"Well, why is everyone out to get me? First Brittany now Quinn, is it my unlucky day or something?"

Noises began to rise behind the library doors, and the three girls realized that Rory's men had probably heard them talking.

"We gotta hide," Santana lurched into action, grabbing Brittany's hand and running towards the opening doors. Quinn followed as they hid behind a corner.

"What did Brittany do?" Quinn asked quietly.

"I might have accidently, knocked her off her feet and punched her in the face." Brittany replied sheepishly, careful to note the scowl on Santana's face.

"Way to go Britt," Quinn high-fived her.

"Okay, seriously you two. Stop ganging up on me."

"Mad Santana is hot,"

"Mad Santana is a beast, those fuckers better be ready."

"You two had better be ready cus we'z about to dash," Santana hissed and counted to three. Just as the doors were swinging closed she slipped inside the library, followed by Brittany and Quinn.

"Hey!" One of the three bulky men who came out to check for commotion ran to the door hoping to keep it open but Santana was quicker. She quickly locked it and joined Brittany and Quinn behind some bookshelves.

The three men locked outside began to bang their fists against the door.

"Okay, so you wait for the guys to run past and shoot them." Santana instructed Brittany and Quinn, "I'll sneak behind enemy lines and try to take Irish hostage."

She was about to leave when Brittany put her hand on her arm, pulling her back down to her level. "Be careful baby,"

Santana tilted her head and kissed Brittany open mouthed for a couple seconds. "I promise, see you in a few."

"Just go already," Quinn shooed Santana, "before your lip smacking gives away our position."

"You're just jealous your man isn't bad ass like Brittany and is tied up by an Irish leprechaun."

"I hate you Satan,"

With an 'I don't care, I'm awesome' shoulder shrug, Santana ran off between the bookshelves. Just in time too. A pair of black clad men came walking by, shoulders crouched and guns at the ready.

It only took a second for Brittany and Quinn to take them down. Methodically, the two ran towards the bodies and dragged them out of the path to the library doors.

"We still got it," Brittany patted Quinn on the back. They peered through the books to see if anyone else was coming.

"You take the left, I'll take the right." Quinn nodded with her head. "Shoot anyone that comes into range, there shouldn't be that many men left."

They'd barely taken two steps when they heard an incredibly girlish scream.

Both raised their eyebrows but continued moving through the shelves towards the sound. Loud thuds on the library doors stopped them in their tracks.

"Let's take care of them first," Brittany mouthed and ran back the way she'd come.

The three hulks previously locked out came barreling through the library doors leaving it in splinters. They'd hardly stopped rolling when Brittany and Quinn gunned them down permanently.

By the time they raced to the sitting area of the library they were ready for a massive fight but the picture was not quite what they expected.

There sat Santana, sharpening her knife on the metal back of Sugar Motta's chair dangerously close to her neck. Mike and Puck were free, two bodyguards were dead on the floor and Santana was snug on Rory Flanagan's lap. He was bound as was Sugar.

"Oh hey, you guys finally made it." Santana sounded perky. Quinn ran straight into Mike's waiting arms. "Are you okay?" Mike nodded and they started making out.

"Gross," Santana turned away from the scene.

She slipped her knife back into its case hanging off her belt. "Mike and I were just about to question these two crooks."

"What about me?" Puck finished collecting the weapons off the unconscious guards.

"You can make sure Britt and I have the stuff we need to disappear ASAP," Santana pointed her finger at his nose.

"At least when you're gone, I won't have to be your personal bitch anymore." He grumbled.

"Hey Britt babe, I told you I'd keep my promise." Santana ignored Puck's whining. There were more important people to pay attention to, like her gorgeous, battle wounded, strong, sexy, half-naked wife.

"You're like my hero San," Brittany said and was about to kiss Santana when her eyes landed on their two captives.

"You two shut your eyes right now so I can get my mack on," Santana glared menacingly. Rory and Sugar were so scared they did exactly as she said.

She turned back to Brittany and collected her reward. "For the record, your injured ass isn't that bad either."

"Can we open our eyes now?" Sugar attempted to ask, but it sounded like some alien noise.

"Whatever, you can open your eyes" Santana replied annoyed. "It's time to fulfill some of my demands." She unsheathed her knife again for effect.

Brittany had no idea what Santana's would do next. Tying up Rory and Sugar had never been the plan.

"Hey San, maybe we should talk about this first," Brittany whispered in her ear. Santana had to calm the shivers and tone down sexy thoughts she was now thinking. Being around Brittany was definitely a 24 hour in the gutter experience.

"Okay babe," her face switched from glare to grin in a second as she took Brittany's outstretched hand and followed her to a corner of the library, away from the captive's ears.

"So whipped," Quinn commented because it really had to be said.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"I was just going to tell him to leave us the fuck alone. Believe me; I don't want to be a part of this mess anymore than you do."

"So then we let them go?" Quinn interjected, "What about doing the right thing and taking care of business?"

Brittany looked torn. On one hand she couldn't wait to start a fresh future with Santana, but not finishing a job and letting evil men carry on in their wicked ways was not something she was used to doing either.

"Well, can't we just turn him into the police?"

"And what would they do with him? Nothing. They don't know what he's behind and we have no proof of anything. They'll just let him go."

"Trade'm," Puck joined the conversation. "You two still have some powerful people after your asses for failing the mission and for running away together."

"Won't it be like making a deal with the devil?" Brittany asked. She knew how ruthless and uncaring the higher ups were. They were selfish and probably pissed beyond forgiving her and Santana no matter who they turned in.

"Britt's right, we can't trust them." Santana sighed.

"So we kill them," Quinn said simply, seeing only one solution left.

"At least Quinn and I will be finished with this mess," Puck sighed. "I'll go pick up your papers tomorrow Santana, my contact said they're ready."

"Thanks Puck," Santana allowed herself to lean against the bookshelf. The thought of forever being a fugitive sapped her of strength, but then she looked at Brittany and she remembered why it would all be worth it. She'd do anything for the chance for a semi-normal life with her wife. "You guys can finish up here right?"

"Yeah, you two go rest." Puck nodded, "Quinn and I will take care of the rest. Tomorrow morning I'll be here with your things."

Brittany suddenly realized how tired and drained her body felt. "I'm sleepy San," she announced and did a giant yawn. Santana watched her like she was the most adorable person in the world.

"Let me have a few words with Sugar,"

The other four trailed Brittany back to the two crooks.

Roughly, Brittany pulled the tape off Sugars mouth and slapped her across the cheek – hard.

"Oooh, that's gotta hurt," Quinn cringed. Mikes eyes widened and Puck and Santana had their jaws dropped.

"That's so hot," They breathed at the same time. It earned Puck a punch in the arm.

"Don't say that."

"But you did."

"Are you married to Brittany? No. I am, so when I say she's hot it's a compliment. When you say it, it's creepy and disturbing."

"Damn, you need some sleep grumpy."

Brittany was now straddling Sugars lap, "Bitch that was for causing me and Santana so much trouble and for being a backstabber, liar, deceiver, and genius actor and for finding that potato belly attractive. I hope you have lots of unattractive, flaming haired babies in hell." With that, Brittany taped Sugar's mouth again and walked off, Santana on her arm.

"Santana's bitchy totally rubbed off on Brittany," Quinn put her hands on her hips. "I wonder how their kids will turn out."

"Hey, mine and Brittz kids will be kickass and awesome," Santana shouted back having heard the last of Quinn's comment. "Not pastry kids like yours and baker boys."

"Wow," Mike said. He wasn't used to hearing Brittany and now Santana being so mean.

"That's normal when they're in a bad mood. Well, actually that only applies to Brittany. Santana's got snix up her ass permanently."

"What's Snix?" Mike was even more confused.

"Never mind, you don't want to know." She patted him on the back.

"We gonna start now?" Puck asked, already brandishing a gun and wielding it around in the air.

"Let's do it." Quinn nodded and Mike closed his eyes.

* * *

><p>Halfway through the night, Brittany woke up. Everything was so quiet and it unsettled her. She didn't feel danger lurking in the halls, in the bathroom or under the bed. It just felt like a long extended moment before something really great happened and she was just waiting for the blowing of the trumpets and for Jesus to come riding down on a unicorn.<p>

Earlier that night, Santana and Brittany had been settling into bed after showers – and by settling she meant they were subtly grinding under the covers, when Quinn came in without knocking to tell them everything was complete and that she and Mike would sleep a safe three doors away. Puck poked his head in and said he was sleeping next door which pissed Santana off royally.

It turned out, both she and Santana were too spent to go beyond grinding and making out. But now Brittany was fully awake. The prospect of the morning dawning along with their freedom from their past lives was making her stomach churn with excitement. She really couldn't sleep when thoughts of her new life with Santana kept interrupting her.

"Baby?" Santana wriggled in bed and swept her arms over the expanse of the mattress looking for Brittany.

"Right here," Brittany crawled back under the covers and cuddled with Santana.

"Why you up?" She didn't even open her eyes.

"I'm excited, and you know how I get. It's worse than having ten spoons of sugar in my coffee."

"I never understood your sweet tooth," Santana continued to mumble half asleep; "black coffee is the best."

"ick,"

"But you like the taste of it in my mouth." Santana smirked against Brittany's chest. She was slowly gaining awareness.

"I like the taste of your mouth no matter what you eat."

"Even with morning breathe?"

"It's tolerable, but that's why we always have mints in the side drawer…"

"…instead of condoms." Santana finished Brittany's sentence with a chuckle. "It doesn't even make sense."

"Whatever, we make sense and that's all that matters." Brittany kissed the top of Santana's head. This was the absolutely perfect way to wake up with Santana in Brittany's books.

"So, what do you want to do on our first day of freedom?" Santana asked.

"Get as far away from here as possible."

"I think that's a splendid idea baby,"

"What about you?"

"Me?" Santana thought for a moment, "I want to have sex."

"Santana!" Brittany whined, that was so not what she was asking.

"What? You don't want to start a family with me?"

"What?" Now Brittany was thoroughly confused, how did Santana jump from sex to starting a family?

"Well, when two people love each other," Santana began cheekily, "they have sex and make lots of babies."

"So, you want to make babies with me? Is that it?" Brittany asked in return.

"Uh huh," Santana was now fully awake and so was her desire to ravish Brittany. "I want to make lots of babies with you."

"I can't believe I'm turned on by that." Before Brittany could elaborate on how children were fundamentally not sexy and actually a lot of work, Santana had already flipped her over and was now straddling her.

"Well babe, we could have twin girls," Santana brought Brittany's hands to her own breasts and reached behind to snap off her bra. "These twins already love you."

"Oh god, Santana, I think you broke my brain."

"Then stop thinking baby," Santana lay down on Brittany and that was it, all thought of cute cuddly children were flushed out of Brittany's mind.

* * *

><p><strong>And that's it. Just kidding, there's still an epilogue to come and some loose ends to tie up. <strong>


	23. Epilogue

**Well this is the last of this story. Thanks so much to everyone who stuck with me to the end. I loved writing this story. It was so fun, I literally laugh at some of the stuff I write and I hope I was able to make you laugh as well. **

**Cheers!**

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

_Uncovering Pierce Empire and the secret underground game cult_

"Why is our company the feature story in the newspaper?" Santana slammed the daily news on the desk of her very scared public relations manager.

"Have you read it Ms. Pierce?" She stuttered. "It says P.E. is the most revolutionary thing since Facebook."

"Marley," Santana grasped her perfectly curled hair in an effort to control her temper and her hands from slapping Marley across the face. "You had one job, ONE JOB! Keep the Pierce name out of the media."

"I'm sorry; I didn't know that they were doing a story on your empire." Marley was on the verge of tears. Working for the Pierce's was hard especially on the days that mean boss Pierce was in the building – kind boss Pierce never shouted, she would only give you the I'm disappointed look and that would be enough for you to get your shit together immediately. Today mean boss Pierce was absolutely terrifying. "It's so hard to keep everything quiet, what this company does is genius and amazing, it's like trying to keep the most wanted secret in the world – and it's so hard."

"I don't even know why I hired you," Santana crossed her arms. "Oh right, because I fired the last PR manager after two weeks and I needed someone ASAP and my wife recommended you."

"I'm…I'm new to this and, I'm sorry. Are you going to fire me?"

"You really have the nerve to ask me that? Of course you're fired. Give me your keys and clear your desk right now. Britt's got a doctor's appointment and I'm already going to be late."

"But you have a personal helicopter," Marley replied as she grabbed the few objects that had found their home on her desk.

"I know, but I have to be there before Britt to threaten the doctor,"

Marley was thoroughly confused but didn't dare say anymore. She dropped the keys she had used all but ten times into the palm of Santana's hand and ran out as fast as she could.

* * *

><p>Armed with her stellar good looks, sharp tongue and incredibly tall stilettos, Santana marched through the halls of the hospital grabbing the attention of every nurse and doctor. She didn't mind of course that people fainted at the sight of her as long as her name didn't end up in the media. She had made it her mission to protect the new life that she and Brittany had been given.<p>

"Where is Doctor Mortimer?" She asked at the desk, "I need to see him immediately.'

The old lady behind the computer barely looked up at her. "Do you have an appointment Miss?"

"Yes, Pierce." She tapped her fingers impatiently.

"Your appointment isn't for another half hour, please wait in the sitting room."

"Did you not hear me? I need to see the doctor now. Look just because you are a sorry excuse for a failed diet doesn't mean other people aren't going with their lives and have important things to discuss with their doctor, so would you kindly send for Dr. Mortimer RIGHT NOW!"

The woman still did not budge and even had the nerve to give Santana the 'look at all the fucks I give' look.

Frustrated Santana stomped away. The day had not begun like Santana expected. Oh wait, stroke of luck!

"Hello doctor, I was just looking for you!" A brilliant smile quickly transformed on her face and in a second she was hooking her arm in the arms of the confused doctor and leading him away. She pushed into a room to the protest of Dr. Mortimer and turned on the light.

"Oh god, I hate this room. There are usually people uh…doing…having sexual intercourse."

"So this is the on-call room? Wanky." Santana took in her surroundings. It was a simple room, perfect for getting down and dirty then getting out real fast. "Anyways, that's kind of what I need to talk to you about." She turned back to the doctor who literally looked like a rolly polly teddy bear with a mustache.

"If you are looking for relationship council, I'm sure Anna at the front desk can direct you to…"

"Oh is that the bitch's name? Could you tell the chief that she needs to be replaced immediately as her unenthusiastic nature is giving patients and relatives the urge to overdose on depression pills? Thanks. But that's not what I want to talk about."

"Are you well Miss?" The doctor asked.

"Oh, I'm perfectly well. It's my wife that is going to need you today."

"Ah, is she giving birth? I assume that because that is my specialty at this hospital."

"No, no, no… if she was giving birth don't you think I'd be carrying a giant everything-a-pregnant woman-could-ever-need bag? The very problem is that she isn't pregnant – well not yet."

"I see so you and you're wife are trying to get pregnant?"

"Precisely."

Dr. Mortimer smiled, much more in his element now. "Well, do you need me to go through the procedures with you? There are many ways to impregnate a woman."

"No, no, no we've already done an insemination…for the third time." Santana sighed. Each time they had changed hospitals because Santana believed it was the doctor's fault that it wasn't sticking. Brittany had wanted Santana to do it at home but she just couldn't. As badass as she was, squirting semen up her wife's vagina was worse than seeing blood or blowing up a building.

"And you want me to check if she's pregnant?"

"Yes, I mean…we did the whole pee on a stick things multiple times – well actually, like thirty times. But I want to make sure before I let myself be really excited."

"Then I see that today I could be the bearer of good news!" Dr. Mortimer smiled.

"It's too early to say that; don't get my hopes up." Santana scolded the genuinely happy doctor. "What I need you to do is if by some fucking unlucky chance that she's not pregnant because I've been on a mean streak the past week and karma has a way of messing up my perfect life, you need to tell my wife as gently and delicately as possible that it didn't work out this time but that she has so much potential to make a baby okay? Like, I better see an Olympic winning smile on your face. Get it?"

"Miss, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. Let's just stay positive okay?"

Santana's face dropped and Dr. Mortimer feared he had said something to upset her.

"Oh my god. What if all the negativity from me is in some weird way feeding to the baby and it realizes it doesn't want to come into the world if I'm its other mother? Like I fucking know I'm in no way involved in creating this baby but, what if the connection thing is actually killing the baby?" She became hysterical and was almost crying. "Fuck it, my whole life has been about killing people and maybe it's my fault Britt can't have our baby. Or maybe all the fetuses in the world hate me and can see what a horrible mother I'll be in the future."

"Oh Miss," the doctor did a brave act that he felt should award him a medal for risking his life. He hugged Santana and patted her on the back repeatedly. "Don't blame yourself, babies are tricky little things and whether they are created or not is a matter of science, none of this connection that you are talking about."

"Thanks," Santana drew away, "That made me feel a lot better."

Dr. Mortimer nodded before checking his pager. It had buzzed, alerting him that it was time for his next appointment. "Well, I have an appointment with a Mrs. Pierce for a pregnancy check-up," He smiled at Santana, "Do you happen to be the other Mrs. Pierce?"

Santana nodded.

"Then shall we?" Dr. Mortimer extended his arm and they walked out together the way they had before.

* * *

><p>After finding out that Brittany was indeed pregnant and Santana doing her happy dance because damn it was about time, Santana dragged Brittany to the mall to get baby clothes.<p>

On the way to the mall Brittany brought up what happened that morning with Marley. She was unhappy that Santana had fired her and gave Santana a Nobel peace worthy speech on why Marley should be given another chance. Santana was too happy to not give her wife whatever she asked for so she promptly called Marley and hired her again. There wasn't even a threat or warning from Santana because she was fucking happy and nothing was going to knock her off her high – well, except for one Rachel Berry.

"Are you sure it was her?" Santana said, hiding behind the pregnant mannequin inside a maternity clothes store.

"Yes San, I wouldn't forget that nose or those bangs. I'd recognize Rachel Berry anywhere no matter what disguise. I actually think the disguise works against her because only Rachel Berry would be so obvious with her overboard wardrobe."

"Why do you think she's here?" Santana started to think of all the reasons why Rachel could be following them around.

"I don't know." Brittany went on looking at a giant pair of jeans, "you aren't being very conspicuous either, your ass is sticking out and making the mannequin look even fatter than it already is. These jeans are never going to fit me. Am I going to get this fat?"

"The fatter the better baby," Santana stopped spying for Rachel when there was no sign of her. "I'm going to feed you the best stuff, because mini you needs to be strong and smart."

"Like her mami?"

"You are cute Mrs. Pierce," Santana pulled Brittany in and gave her an inappropriate smooch.

"No can not! You stop!" The shop owner started shouting to Santana's annoyance. Who did he think he was, ruining her moment?

Without warning he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the front of his shop. He pointed to a row of stickers on the glass of his display.

"No can do,"

Santana rolled her eyes at the ridiculous things not allowed.

"No pda, no singing, no gangnam style, no farting, no English, no weird alien looking fruit, no nudity, what the hell? Let's go Britt." She gave the owner the evil eye before turning on her heels.

They had been shopping for an hour and ended up buying four giant bags of clothes, toys, baby essentials and maybe a sexy lingerie set that Santana absolutely had to have because Brittany mentioned how hot Santana would look in it."

"I'm hungry; I'm craving ice-cream." If Brittany was already having cravings, Santana was on that shit faster than Brittany could say 'please'. It was totally something Brittany was going to take advantage of because doting Santana was the best Santana.

Standing in line, Santana was only focused on getting to the front of the line as fast as possible. She'd already bribed two small children with promises that the ice-cream lady would give them more sprinkles if they let her go first. They hadn't believed her at first but she convinced them that her word was law and the ice-cream lady was pretty much bound to do what she said. So now there was only one amazingly (not a compliment) dressed, incredibly short person in front of her.

"Hey lady, I've got an incredibly pregnant wife who's going to die if she doesn't get her ice and cream right now so do you mind if I order first?" No one needed to know that she made a slight exaggeration. The woman turned around and in that instant Santana's life flashed before her eyes, mostly memories of a certain overbearing, theatrical, hobbit. "Rachel?"

"Santana!" she squealed but then lowered her voice.

Santana was torn between running and getting that fucking ice-cream. Shit, ice-cream was not worth talking to Rachel Berry. Did Rachel being here mean that they would have to flee to another obscure land? Because Santana was not feeling it, she'd already gotten accustomed to the summer fruit flies here and she did not want to adapt to some new shit just because Rachel Berry showed her face.

"Hey, where are you going?" The ice-cream lady had taken that opportunity to ask Rachel for her order which gave Santana a chance to get the fuck out of there. Rachel was torn, but she had a mission – one which could not be stopped for her favorite yo-fro. So she ran after Santana.

"When did duck feet get so fast?" Santana looked over her shoulder to see Rachel trailing them not far off.

"When did you get so slow?" Brittany asked as she led Santana through the thin crowds.

"It's these heels," she complained. "They're meant for cat walks not for running."

"Then take them off,"

"But then Rachel will catch us."

"Well maybe we could hear what she has to say? If she's here maybe it's something important."

"I don't want to hear how she won an Oscar award for portraying Aung San Suu Kyi in a ridiculous American portrayal of Burma's struggle for freedom."

"Wait." This time Brittany really paused. "Did that really happen? And how do you know that? You totally keep track of her career don't you?"

"Yes, no. I read about the movie fiasco from a critic in the papers – it was really bad and completely inaccurate also Rachel's delivery of the famous speech would bring Suu Kyi to tears from how overly dramatic it was."

"Well, then we should probably start by congratulating her." Brittany said.

Santana turned around and sure enough Rachel Berry was upon them.

"Hello Rachel," Santana said with a hint of annoyance. " Before you speak and not let anyone else get in a word, I just want to tell you that if you're a bearer of bad news which you usually are, then just walk away because Britts and I are on a fucking high and ain't no unworthy Oscar winner gonna rain on my parade. Don't even say anything about Barbra."

"It's very nice to see you again too Santana, congratulations on having a baby Brittany!"

"Actually, the baby hasn't arrived yet."

"Oh, I thought…since Santana said you were very pregnant and you certainly have regained your pre-pregnant figure…"

"Mini Brittany is in there rolling her eyes at you right now Rachel, so what are you really here for?"

"Technically she or he hasn't developed eyes yet," Brittany corrected.

"Whatever, she knows what I mean."

"Ahem, well contrary to what you think, I'm not here with any bad news. I've only come to make an inquiry."

"If this is about yours and Finn's second fifth anniversary, then no, we will not be attending and a card would have sufficed. I haven't missed your face that much that I needed to see you in person."

"That is coming up, but with Brittany pregnant I couldn't possibly ask you to come. What I'm really here for is for some info about Rory Flanagan."

"Oh did you not hear? He's been stone dead for a while now. I know cus' I watched his grave like a vulture for three days after we buried him."

"No, Quinn and Puck have been working together to finish off the rest of Flanagan's cohorts but there is one more they need a confirmation on."

"Quinn put you up to this, I knew it. That bitch has a funny way of saying hi, do you miss me? Here, I'm sending all my love through the most annoying messenger ever."

"If I didn't know Brittany was carrying, I'd have thought you were the pregnant one Santana."

"Did you just imply I'm having a pregnant woman's mood swing? Because…"

"Hey San," Brittany broke up the petty argument. Quinn really should have thought twice before sending Rachel. "We're drawing attention."

"Fine Rachel, sorry you had to come all this way for nothing. Brittz and I got nothing for you."

"Okay," Rachel looked sad for all of two seconds before she was all sunshine and rainbows again.

"At least, they got the Prince right?" Brittany threw in.

"Wait! Repeat what you said?" Rachel rummaged through her bag for a notepad with a pencil poking out of its spine. Was she serious? Did she enjoy role playing as stripped shirt Steve in Blue's clues?

"…Prince…of some place like Iran or Iraq, I can't remember."

"Nope, there's no Prince on this list she gave me. You have been very helpful today Brittany." Rachel beamed.

"And you are no longer welcome in our presence Rachel. Tell Quinn to up her game cus' I have a family with a kid now."

"Oh, Quinn and Mike are adopting a cute little Chinese boy because they found out Mike was impotent. Tragic really."

"So like, they're having a kid together? Soon?"

"Well, they're raising a child together; it's not quite the same…"

"Tell Quinn we're having twins and that sperm-donated babies count more than adopted ones."

Both Brittany and Rachel had 'what the fuck' faces on. The Fabray – Lopez (now Pierce) rivalry was alive and well and getting more heated.

Once Rachel had gone, Brittany addressed the question that had been on her mind for the past fifteen minutes. "Do you really want twins?"

"I want all the babies with you," Santana smirked. "I want a whole gymnastic team and a soccer team."

"Seems like I've got my life's work cut out for me," Brittany mouse kissed Santana, "I've got a demanding wife."

"Do you not want lots of kids with me?" Santana pouted. "Because just one is fine, I mean, I'm going to love the shit out of that kid."

"How about we take them one at a time?" Brittany responded.

"Okay, one at a time."

* * *

><p><strong>Fin.<strong>

**PS: Since I'm done with this story, if anyone has a prompt for me, you can drop me a PM. **

**Much love.**


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